


Royal Growing Pains

by shnuffeluv



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (they're not there for long but they are there), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Deceit Sanders Has a Different Name, Drama & Romance, Gay Disaster Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Homophobia, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misgendering, Prince Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Prince Deceit Sanders, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Trans Male Character, Transgender Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Transphobia, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 95,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21579055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/shnuffeluv
Summary: Roman's had it rough. First, everyone was convinced he was a girl. Then, he had to hide the fact that he was a boy. After that, Remus accidentally revealed Roman's secret. Now, Roman was getting married to a man he had never met, in a kingdom he had never been to, all because his parents were convinced that getting him hitched would "setherstraight" and they would have their "perfect daughter" back.But all is not as it seems. As Prince Damien and everyone else in the Byron's castle prove to be more accepting than Roman's parents, Roman has to disguise who he is for a whole week until he can be married to Damien, and transition, and become Roman, not Veronica. Not to mention the fact that Damien was unfairly cute, and Roman was very much a gay man......This was going to be hard.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Comments: 1368
Kudos: 725





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is something that I've been cooking up for a couple months now, and I decided to share the first chapter tonight. It's still a work in progress, but I hope that you all will bear with me as this and the others works I'm currently invested in are all getting worked on. Any comments are welcome, just so you know in advance! There will be an end note at the end of the work reminding you, but I thought I should let you all know now, as well. Happy reading!

Roman sat in the back of the carriage, making its way through the pre-dawn light. He was holding a bouquet of flowers tightly in both hands and staring resolutely at the wall on the other side of the carriage. He would not cry, he would not cry, he  _ would not cry! _

“Veronica, I know you don’t want to get married, but please, you act like you’re going to a funeral,” his mother chided.

“It’s Roman,” Roman huffed under his breath. “I may as well be going to a funeral. You signed my death warrant by marrying me away to some man I don’t even know!”

His mother sent him a look that had Roman gulping. It was the look he and Remus always received as children when they’d kick up the dirt and get muddy and scuff their shoes. It was the  _ you need to behave _ crossed with  _ one more word out of your mouth and you will wish you had never learned how to speak _ look. “Don’t be like that, Veronica. Damien is a lovely man, who will treat you like the princess you are.”

Roman just continued to stare at the carriage wall.  _ That’s what I’m afraid of, _ he thought, but didn’t dare say.

Remus and Father had to attend to business before they could come to the neighboring kingdom to see the wedding ceremony, but Roman just wished he could have his brother here with him. Even if Remus was the one who let it slip that Roman was trans, even if he was impulsive, and rowdy, and a bit too loud at times, he was Roman’s twin brother. And he understood Roman better than his parents ever could.

“You will always be my little victory, Veronica,” his mother said in a false-kind tone that had Roman’s teeth on edge. “And we will be visiting, rest assured, to make sure that Damien is keeping you on the straight and narrow.”

Roman sighed. “Mother, that really isn’t necessary,” he said, still resolutely not looking her in the eyes. If he didn’t have to hold the infernal flowers his mother had given him, he would have torn the frilly pink dress she had forced him to wear into shreds by now. It was the twenty-first century. Why Mother thought that riding around in carriages before dawn and insisting that he wear a dress was a good idea, or even a widely accepted one, Roman didn’t know.

“Of course it’s necessary,” his mother said with a stern tone. “Until you can clearly see that you are a  _ princess _ and not a  _ prince, _ we will be visiting you.”

“Joy,” Roman muttered.

The scenery outside the carriage slowly grew more visible as the first peeks of the real dawn were starting to shine through the carriage windows. Roman could see the rolling green hills and pastures, a few cattle out this early, and the farmers tending to them in kind. He could smell the faint but undeniable scent of the sea, and Roman remembered that this castle was set atop a mountain that descended to a beach below. Maybe if Roman was lucky he would get to jump off a cliff. Not that his mother would give him the chance, but he certainly could cling to the hope that she might be careless for a moment.

The carriage continued its way down the road until they were at the base of the mountain. His mother got out, and Roman reluctantly followed her, heels clicking uncomfortably on the asphalt. Just because his mother had taught him to walk in these infernal things did not mean that he was going to enjoy them. His mother would brush it off as “The price to pay for beauty” and demand he keep them on.

Soon, however, he saw the reason that they were getting out. It appeared that the Queen and Prince Damien had come down here personally to greet them. Roman’s cheeks tinged a dusty pink as he looked at them. The Queen was a sight to behold, covered in jewelry, and wearing a light green dress that rivaled his mother’s in terms of extravagance. But Damien. Damien...was  _ cute. _ He was wearing an understated suit, charcoal grey, with a yellow shirt underneath. And, Roman realized with an inward gulp, it was a three-piece, meaning he had a waistcoat underneath. And Roman had a thing for men in waistcoats.

It was entirely too cruel, therefore, to know that Damien would never know Roman’s true identity. “Your Majesty,” Damien said with a bow to Roman’s mother, and to Roman he said, “Your Highness.”

“You certainly enjoy your theatrics, Diana,” the Queen said. “I didn’t realize that you coming over at dawn would mean that you were, quite literally, showing up here at dawn.”

“You know me, Rose,” his mother said. “You know this is to be expected. Besides, Veronica here was having a few...issues around home as of late, and we thought it would be best to bring her over here now, rather than later. We didn’t want Remus to fret over her all morning before the trip.”

Damien’s eyes kept evaluating Roman, and he wasn’t sure if Damien could read his discomfort, or if he was simply sizing Roman up to see how attractive he was. If it was a case of the latter, Roman would smack him the second they were alone. Mother may disapprove, but he disapproved of this entire thing. Mother would have to live with it.

His mother was looking at him expectantly, and he blinked back at her, uncomprehending. “Please forgive Veronica, she has been rather confused as of late,” his mother said in the best polite voice she could muster. “Veronica, the flowers?”

“Oh,” Roman said listlessly. He held the flowers out to Damien. “Your Highness, these are for you.”

“These are lovely,” Damien said with a small smile. “Where were they grown?”

“Our garden,” Roman said, a genuine spark of joy coming to his eyes as he continued, “My brother and I used to go on all sorts of adventures back there. We would be fighting dragons, or exploring space, or being the most feared pirates on the seven seas.”

“And you were never the damsel in distress?” Damien said.

Roman scoffed. “Never. I would much rather be a part of the action, rather than just sit down and watch.”

Damien gave Roman an amused look. “Perhaps there’s a reason you always preferred to fight?”

Roman shrugged. “I mean, in all honesty I would have preferred to be a knight, than a princess!”

Damien’s eyebrows shot up in shock and his smile grew more amused. Roman’s mother elbowed him not-so-subtly in the ribs. “Enough,” she hissed to him. “You are a lady, act like it!”

Roman was not discreet as he glared daggers at his mother. “Talking about what I enjoyed as a child does not deprive me of my manners,” he quipped.

“How very true,” Damien said. “Would you care to continue this discussion later? Once I have finished my morning studies?”

Roman shifted. Did he want to spend more time with Damien? On one hand, he resented the prince. This was his parents’ way of trying to keep him in line, and Damien was like an anvil he was chained to as he sank to the bottom of the river. On the other, none of that was Damien’s fault. Neither of them knew each other very well, and he was just having a “wife” thrown at him for no good reason. The very least he could do was allow Damien a chance to know him better. “I would enjoy that,” Roman said, smile fading some, but a small spark of hope remained.

Of course, once his mother spoke again, that spark was immediately snuffed out. “Perhaps we ladies should have breakfast together, just to get to know each other? Would you like that, Veronica?”

Roman knew his mother wanted him to say yes, even though he would rather do anything but. “Actually, Mother, I did not sleep very well last night, and I would prefer to catch up on sleep before eating, if that’s all right?”

That was a reasonable request. His mother couldn’t say no without a very good reason not to, and Roman knew that wasn’t the case. “I suppose,” his mother sighed. “But you must eat something for breakfast sooner or later, Veronica, no waiting until lunch!”

“I understand,” Roman said, biting his tongue to keep back the sarcastic remark that he only waited until lunch to avoid his parents when he was back home.

His mother gave him a false smile and he looked away, not dignifying her with a response. Fighting with his mother got him nowhere, and he would rather  _ not _ be confined to his room in the week it took for the wedding to come to fruition. “I don’t suppose there’s a room I could use to rest until later in the morning?” Roman asked.

“Of course,” the Queen said. “Damien, would you mind showing our lovely guest to her quarters?”

Roman tried to not visibly flinch at that.

“I would love to,” Damien said with a smile at Roman. “My dear?”

Roman plastered a fake smile on his face and followed Damien into a small convertible, which he used to drive them both up the mountain. Roman looked at the scenery more than he looked at Damien. The mountain wasn’t covered in jagged rocks and sharp edges. At least, not on this side. The road they used slowly wound up further and further, back and forth on the one side of the mountain until it would reach the base of the castle. “So, how was the ride over here?” Damien asked. “Riding in a carriage before dawn doesn’t sound like a comfortable start to the day.”

“It was fine,” Roman said, voice soft as he continued to stare out the window at the countryside.

“Your mother must be quite the theatrical woman,” Damien prodded.

Roman grimaced. He really didn’t want to have a conversation this early in the morning, let alone have a conversation this early in the morning with a man he had just met, no matter how cute he was. “She is,” he said. “She arranged this, after all.”

Damien sent Roman a glance. “Forgive me if I come across as rude, Your Highness, but you don’t seem pleased about being here.”

Roman shrugged. “The day is still quite young, Your Highness, and I’m very tired. I usually don’t wake up for another hour at least. All I really want right now is a warm bed and some time to rest.” Roman heaved a sigh. “And forgive me if  _ I _ come across as rude, but I hardly know you. It’s hard for me to get excited about marrying someone when I don’t know who they are.”

Damien gave Roman a rueful smile, and Roman felt a pang of guilt in his chest. “Yes, I’m much the same way,” he said. “Which is why I hope to use this upcoming week to get to know you better. I would very much like to know the woman I’m to marry.”

Roman flinched minutely and Damien sent Roman another glance. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked.

“No, no,” Roman assured. “I would like to get to know you as well. I’m...well, I’m just not over the moon about the thought of being married at all. I’m not some sort of...of chess piece to be used in hopes to avoid a war, and I’m not some mold that my mother can use to live vicariously through. I’m my own person, but sometimes it feels like I’m the only one who understands that.”

Damien looked at Roman quizzically as they pulled up to the top of the mountain. “Surely you had some choice in who you were to be married to? I understand your parents were quick to try and find someone to be your betrothed, but you must have at least  _ heard _ of my name before my parents called?”

“Well, I had heard about you  _ online,” _ Roman said. “It’s hard not to hear about royalty in the tabloids. But no, I didn’t get a choice in who I might be married to.”

Damien looked...shocked? Outraged? Roman wasn’t sure. “I...you must forgive me, Your Highness, I may need some time to think about that before we talk next. I will escort you to your quarters, and then I must finish my morning studies, but once that is done, if you so desire, we can talk again, or you may have some time to yourself.”

Roman nodded. “That’s fine,” he said.  _ Especially if it means I don’t have to continue this conversation. _

Damien opened the front door to the castle, and gestured for Roman to walk in. When he did, he gaped a little at what he saw. The entire front room was lit by a chandelier hanging high above their heads, and the walls were all painted a rich but warm yellow. “I...wow,” he managed. “It’s...wow.”

There was a small laugh behind him. “Most of the hallways are painted this particular shade of yellow, I’m afraid. I was hoping that at some point I could repaint it a lighter, more pastel shade so it doesn’t look like a banana threw up all over the place,” Damien said, amused.

Roman laughed before he could help himself. “It is a little bright,” he agreed. “But I don’t mind it too much. So long as not all the rooms are painted the exact same shade of yellow. That is not the only color I want to see the rest of my life.”

“No! No,” Damien laughed. “Your quarters, at the very least, are painted red. The library uses light blues, there are some shades of green if you know where to look, and most of the rest of the castle is cream or white. But the first thing you see is...banana throw-up.”

Roman laughed a little more, as Damien led him down hall after hall until they reached a stairway near the back of the castle. “Now, I’m taking you this way so I can show you the secret back exit that I used to sneak out as a young child,” Damien said, pointing to a nondescript wooden door next to the stairwell. “That door leads to a mudroom, and beyond that is the back of the castle. Beautiful view of the ocean, if that is something you want to see.”

Nodding a little, Roman considered the merits of using that door to run away from this life, from this responsibility, from this nightmare that his future had become. But he couldn’t do that right away, not with Damien right here. He allowed himself to be led up the stairwell, and down one final hall to a room that was bare bones enough for Roman to believe that it was a guest room. Damien said, “And this will be your room for the week. After that, I believe our parents will be expecting us to share a room, at least for the first night as a newlywed couple.”

Roman felt his stomach pitch sideways. He hadn’t even thought about the implications of being a newlywed. He’d be expected to have sex? And enjoy it? The very thought of that made him feel like he was going to throw up. “Does this room have an en suite? Or is there a bathroom nearby?” Roman asked.

“The bathroom would be two doors down,” Damien said, pointing. “Should I leave you to rest?”

“Please,” Roman breathed.

Damien nodded and Roman walked into the bedroom, kicking off the heels at long last and yanking himself free of the dress. He didn’t much like sleeping without any clothes, painfully aware of his body, but it was briefs-only or in that dress, so he unhooked his bra and crawled into bed.

His mind was reeling. If Damien hadn’t been so mild-mannered, he would have tried to run by now, no matter what anyone thought of him. But he was trying to be nice, to offer Roman a place to feel safe. Even if he didn’t know what safe actually was to Roman, he was trying, and Roman couldn’t fault him for that. That was more effort than he got from most people back home.

What was he going to do? Obviously, he couldn’t marry Damien, not when he didn’t love him. That would just be cruel. Damien would no doubt try to make him more comfortable with the whole situation, but no matter what he did, Roman just couldn’t become Damien’s queen. That was not an option.

As he drifted off to sleep, he knew that a solution had to be forthcoming, one that would solve all of this, where he could be seen as the man he wanted to be, and he didn’t have to marry anyone he didn’t love, and Damien wasn’t left with an uncaring “wife,” because damn it, he resented Damien but everyone deserved to be loved by  _ someone _ . He just hoped that solution showed itself sooner rather than later.


	2. Chapter 2

When Roman woke up next, he turned to check the time on the clock on his nightstand, only to realize he wasn’t in his own bed. He sat upright with a gasp before he remembered that he was at the Byron’s to be married off to Damien. He forced away a sob as he got himself dressed again, back into that infernal pink  _ thing _ his mother forced him to wear. He considered the odds of him being caught walking around barefoot, and decided that the yelling didn’t outweigh the feeling of being able to walk for fifteen minutes.

He slipped on the heels and opened the door to his room to find his suitcases waiting. He pulled them into his room and resolved to change into pants later. As it was, he had to get something to eat before his mother came looking for him.

Wandering around the castle in search of the kitchen, Roman realized that same yellow that was in the entrance was painted on virtually every hallway in the place. He was starting to see why someone might hate it.

He made a triumphant noise when he stumbled upon the kitchen, and his heels clicked against the tile as he looked around. There had to be something simple that didn’t need much preparation that he could eat... “Excuse me?” a voice asked from behind him.

Roman turned and the man gasped, hastily bowing. “Princess Veronica, my apologies, I did not realize that was you!” the man said.

“Oh it’s quite all right, Mister...?”

“Uh, Hart. Patton Hart. I’m the top chef in charge around here,” he said. “Is there anything I can do for you? I know you slept through when the Queens were having breakfast together.”

“Yeah, if there’s any...any fruit, or something small I can have for breakfast, that would be lovely,” Roman said.

“Is that all? I could make you something bigger if you wanted...”

“No, something small is all I want,” Roman said, flashing a smile. “If you have any green apples I would be more than happy with one of those.”

“Oh! Sure thing!” Patton said, rushing to the pantry and coming back with two green apples. “Take two, just in case you’re hungrier than you think you are,” he suggested.

“You’re very kind,” Roman said with a small smile.

“Anything for a princess as beautiful as you!” Patton chirped.

Roman kept his smile in place by some miracle of strength he didn’t realize he had. “Do you happen to know where Prince Damien is?” he asked. “I was hoping we could continue our conversation from this morning sooner, rather than later.”

“Oh, of course!” Patton exclaimed. “He should be studying in the library with his professor. He’s incredibly intelligent, did you know? He’s working on getting a Bachelor’s degree in Ancient Roman history.”

Roman sniffed a laugh. Patton’s brows furrowed but Roman just waved a hand. “Nothing particularly funny, just an inside joke between me and my brother,” he dismissed. “How do I get to the library from here?”

“Uh, up one floor and head towards the back of the castle, Damien likes the view by the windows so that’s where you’re most likely to find him,” Patton said.

“All right. Thank you, Patton,” Roman said with a smile, before walking out of the kitchen. His teeth dug into the skin of one of the apples and he took a bite, savoring the tart taste of a good old-fashioned green apple. There wasn’t anything quite like it.

As he made his way upstairs, he kept one ear open to see if he could hear his mother, in an attempt to avoid her. He’d rather spend time alone with Damien than spend any time with his mother.

He got to the library door, somewhat ajar and he pushed it open softly, looking around. There were shelves upon shelves of books, and at the very back of the room, a giant set of bay windows, where Damien was sitting, typing on a laptop. After throwing away the apple cores in a nearby trash can, Roman walked over, relieved that at least one place in the castle had carpet, so he didn’t have to worry about hearing his heels click everywhere.

It was only when he was three feet away that Damien acknowledged him, and then he had him mistaken for someone else as he said, “I’m almost done with my paper, Logan, I’ll have it on the printer for you in five minutes. I just need to finish proofreading.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m not interrupting you in the middle of the paper, then,” Roman said, sitting down across from Damien and looking out the window. “But I’m afraid I’m not Logan.”

Damien looked up. “Oh! Veronica,” he said. “My apologies.”

Roman ignored the sting at his deadname, knowing that Damien didn’t know any better. It was taking a lot of patience out of him, but he could grin and bear it just a little while longer, just until he could figure out a way out of here. “It’s fine,” he said. “I was just wondering if you were still studying. I was looking forward to our conversation about childhood adventures.”

“Ah. Well, as I said, I just need to finish proofreading. As soon as the paper is printed we can talk,” Damien said.

Roman nodded and let Damien read through what he had written, and Roman noticed with a small amount of amusement that Damien was mouthing along to what he was reading.

When he turned back to the window, he could see the blue sea stretching for miles, a few boats dotting the blue here and there, but the ocean was mostly untouched. He would love to go out there on a boat, just him and Remus, swimming and play-arguing, and maybe even fishing a little if they were patient enough.

Subtly he shook himself free of those thoughts. That wasn’t a possibility anymore. He wouldn’t get the chance to speak to Remus often, save through emails which would no doubt be heavily monitored by his mother. His eyes stung, and he blinked back his tears. He couldn’t cry, not at all but especially not here, in front of a man who he was doomed to pretend to love until death.

Damien nodded, hit a couple buttons on his laptop, and in the distance, Roman could hear a printer start up. “I can get the paper in a little while,” Damien said with a smile. “I must admit that I wasn’t expecting you to seek me out.”

Roman shrugged. “Well, I may not be pleased at being married, but I would at least like to know my husband. And any time away from my mother is a welcome distraction.”

Damien threw Roman a quizzical look and Roman shrugged with a bitter smile. “It sounds strange, I know, but it’s true. My mother is not the most caring individual in the world. She adores my brother, and she loves who she  _ wants _ me to be, but I can’t be what she wants me to be, and that leaves me lacking in her support, and often leaves us at odds.”

“You have my sincerest apologies, my dear. That does not sound easy,” Damien said.

Roman shrugged again and sighed. “Do you ever wish that...that you didn’t have to be who everyone wanted you to be? That you felt in charge of your own destiny?”

“All too often,” Damien said softly. “It’s a painful and lonely feeling.”

Roman gave Damien a true smile, albeit tinged with sadness. “At least we aren’t alone in our misery anymore?”

Damien barked a laugh, clapping a hand over his mouth and looking around before he grinned at Roman. “How very true,” he said, and Roman felt like he could stare at Damien’s smile forever. Why did Damien have to be cute? Why did Roman have to be into guys? He was sure this would have been easier if he felt nothing for the prince sitting in front of him, but Roman undeniably felt there was something interesting about the man. “So, do you want to continue our discussion about childhood adventures? Or shall we just wallow in misery for a few more minutes?”

Roman offered Damien a smirk. “I don’t know. Commiserating can be very cathartic.”

Damien laughed softly. “Well, why don’t I tell you some of my mishaps, so you might feel less embarrassed about yours?”

“Oh, I’m not embarrassed by my mishaps, they happen to make for hilarious stories,” Roman said with a grin. “There was the time that my brother and I swapped clothes as young kids, convinced that no one would be able to tell us apart.”

Damien chuckled. “Did you have long hair then, too?”

“No. Believe it or not, I had hair much like a pixie cut, and so did my brother. We actually got away with it for most of the day, until it came time for dinner, our parents found us covered in mud from playing in the garden, and we had to each take a bath,” Roman laughed.

Damien laughed with him, and Roman actually felt briefly happy, despite his circumstances. “I never had a sibling to wreak havoc with, which I suppose is for the best, considering the sort of trouble I would get up to just persuading the castle staff to humor me for five minutes. One such incident involved a tailor trying to fit me for a suit when I had to be about...six years old, and I managed to get into my art supplies, grabbing the glitter but not looking where I was going...”

“Oh, no,” Roman laughed. “Where did it land?”

“Somewhat on the fabric that was going to be used for my suit...but mostly on the tailor,” Damien explained.

“Oh, no!” Roman laughed hard enough that he was wheezing. “I can only imagine how you would have been with a brother or sister as a child.”

Damien laughed. “Yes, I fear it would not have ended well for anyone involved.”

Roman shook his head. “Were your parents mad?”

“Furious,” Damien said. “I wasn’t allowed glitter for six months after that.”

Roman laughed with a wince in sympathy.

“When did you start to grow out your hair?” Damien asked, pointing to Roman’s long locks. “If you had a pixie cut as a young child?”

Roman sighed. “My mother forced me to grow it out when I was ten. I wasn’t a fan of it then and I’m still not now. Long hair is just impractical, and I much prefer not having to blow dry anything.”

Damien closed his laptop. “May I ask you a question, Veronica?”

_ Oh, boy, here it goes, _ Roman thought. “Sure,” he said.

“You seem to be very...androgynous-to-masculine in behavior. But you wear very feminine clothing, and present as very feminine in appearance in general. Is there any particular reason for that?”

He could say it. He could say he was trans, right now, where no one except him and Damien were. His mother couldn’t stop him, no one would wander in and listen, he could say it. But if Damien reacted poorly...his mother would be furious at him still insisting he was trans, and absolutely nothing would go right. He might even be shipped off to a different kingdom to a different prince to be married there, and he wouldn’t be allowed a bit of privacy from his mother until he had that cursed ring on his finger. So...in reality...he couldn’t say it. “I’m unsure,” he said. “I suppose growing up with Remus, and following around the knights and guards, and very rarely being around women made me have a more masculine taste.”

“I suppose that could be a reason,” Damien agreed, but judging by the look he was giving Roman he didn’t quite believe the lie. “Do you intend to have lunch with the Queens today? My father and I were considering joining the three of you, but I would only want to go if you were in attendance.”

Roman sighed. “I don’t have much of a choice in the matter, Damien,” he admitted. “My mother is a controlling woman. What she says goes, and the only people who dare defy her are removed from her world quickly and without mercy.”

Damien frowned. “That does not sound remotely pleasant. Is there nothing you can do to stop her?”

Roman scoffed. “The last time I tried that is the reason why I’m here now.”

“What?” Damien looked shocked.

“My mother is removing me from the equation until in her eyes I can ‘behave,’” Roman explained, using air quotes around the word behave. “She doesn’t believe me when I say what I want. She thinks that marrying me to a man will make me change my opinion on certain things, like my hair, or preferring to wear pants to skirts.”

“That’s...awful,” Damien managed. “I suppose a part of you must be happy to escape her grasp, though?”

“She’ll constantly pester me here until she’s decided I’ve changed my tune,” Roman spat. “I know this isn’t very ‘ladylike’ but I hate her with a fiery passion usually reserved for the deepest pits of hell.”

Damien’s eyebrows rose and Roman inwardly scolded himself for letting himself get carried away in a rant again. “I’m truly sorry, Veronica. That...that cannot be easy.”

Roman flinched visibly at the use of his deadname, and he stood abruptly, needing to get away, to breathe, to think without constantly having his old life thrown in his face. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, before practically running out of the room.

His heels clicked in the hallways, and with every step Roman could feel himself losing a little more of his sanity. The apples he had eaten earlier felt like a rock in his stomach, and he thought he might be sick.

He retreated to his room, fishing in his luggage for the books he had packed. While his mother had confiscated his laptop, she couldn’t take away the books he had read. He pulled out a classic thriller, deciding that he would read before lunch.

In an instant, he was teleported into a world where he didn’t have to be a ladylike princess named Veronica, he could be Ty Stryder, the private eye trying to figure out who killed the mayor before the corrupt cops got to him and got him to stop investigating...one way or another.

He was halfway through the novel before there was a knock at his door and he checked the time. Ten until noon. Time for lunch. He sighed, smoothed the skirt of his dress, and moved to the door, where an overeager young servant was waiting for him. “Right this way, Your Highness, the royal family will be eating with you and your mother.”

_ Joy, _ Roman thought to himself, but again, didn’t dare say.

He allowed himself to be guided to the main dining room, which had high ceilings, and bright white walls, with gold accents in the curtains. Damien was already there, as was Damien’s mother, but it appeared that Damien’s father and Roman’s mother were not yet in attendance. “Your Highness, Your Majesty,” he greeted.

“Ah, Veronica, come on in,” the Queen said. “Your mother and I missed you at breakfast this morning.”

Roman shrugged apologetically. “I’m afraid I was more tired than anticipated,” he said with a plastered-on fake smile.

Damien gave him a searching look and Roman bit back the urge to snarl and run. It wasn’t anything Damien had done, it wasn’t fair to antagonize him for something he couldn’t help. Roman sat down across from Damien, which he really wished he could avoid, but he knew it was Damien or the Queen, and he wasn’t quite ready to tackle the problem which was the Queen yet. “Are you feeling better, Veronica?” Damien asked.

“Better? Was she ill earlier?” the Queen asked.

“She was in a hurry this morning when we were having a discussion in the library. I could only assume she felt unwell, by how distraught she was at the end of the conversation,” Damien explained.

And all of a sudden, Roman thought that he might get sick again. He hated his old name and his old pronouns more than he had first thought. Or maybe he was just hearing them so often that it felt like he had never been called anything else, ever, not even by Remus. “I’m feeling a little better, thank you,” he said quietly, hating the sound of his too-high voice, hating the feel of the too-tight dress, hating the situation of being trapped inside his own mind with no way to free himself.

Then, the King came in, along with Roman’s mother, and Roman had to plaster on that all-too-fake smile again as the King greeted him, and his mother sat down next to him, across from the Queen.

Patton came in, along with five servants, who placed plates in front of each of the members of the table. “Today’s lunch is rather simple, I’m afraid. Chicken parmesan,” Patton said.

“I’m sure it’s great, Patton,” the King said. “All of your food is.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Patton said with a bow. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to shout!”

And with that, the five were left alone with their food. Roman forced himself to eat, even though food was the last thing on his mind. His mother would want him to be polite, and that included eating what was put in front of him.

“I had seen pictures of you before, Veronica, but they don’t do you justice. You look absolutely beautiful,” the King said.

Roman looked down at his plate in embarrassment and just a touch of anger before he looked back up and said, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The King smiled at him and as the Queen and his mother started talking about wedding plans in excitement, Damien and Roman shared embarrassed glances. Roman was relieved that at least he wasn’t the only one who felt embarrassed by this turn of events. Damien didn’t feel completely comfortable with the wedding either, or at least, he didn’t feel comfortable with their mothers’ plans.

The conversation continued for a while, as Roman picked at his food. Then, “What do you think, Veronica?”

Roman hummed a question as he washed down some of the chicken with his water. “I’m sorry, what was the question?” he asked.

“Do you have a preference on a dress?” his mother asked with a touch of impatience. “I was hoping for something rather intricate, I love it when you wear lace.”

Roman bit his tongue and shrugged. “I haven’t given it much thought, truth be told. Although I must admit I’m not looking for anything like lace in particular. It’s rather difficult for me to enjoy myself when I’m wearing something that...well...feels wrong.”

His mother sent him a warning glare. Roman shrugged. “I just don’t like lace very much, Mother, I’m sorry.”

The conversation continued, with Roman reluctantly roped into it. It was all “Veronica” this and “Veronica” that, never once asking his opinion on the questions that mattered, and he absolutely hated it.

“Do you prefer gold or silver, Veronica?”

“Chocolate cake for the reception, Veronica?”

“What do you want your first dance to be, Veronica?”

Roman stood up from the table the moment he finished his chicken, the chair he was sitting in screeching across the floor. “Apologies, I’m still not feeling well,” he said, before leaving the room without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

He ran through the hall, heels be damned, he needed to get away! He dodged maids and dignitaries and visitors of all sorts before he found the back exit Damien had shown him, and he walked up to the clifface that led to the ocean below. Roman considered jumping, he really, truly did. Anything would be better than five more minutes of wedding planning. But he couldn’t let his mother win, and this, in his mind, would be her winning. He’d be buried in a dress, not a suit, when they found his body. His tombstone would have his deadname. It made him sick to think about. He sat down in the grass. He would  _ not _ let his mother win like that.

“Veronica?” a voice called from behind him.

Roman turned and sighed when he saw Damien approaching from the back door, hands held up in surrender, and face the picture perfect definition of concern. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair! Why did he have to deal with a man who cared about him this much? “Veronica, are you all right?” Damien asked, sitting down next to Roman.

“No,” Roman admitted, so soft he wasn’t even sure Damien could hear.

“What’s the matter?” Damien asked.

Roman looked out at the sea in silence. Jumping still seemed like a viable option, even if it wasn’t ideal.

“My dear,” Damien said, leaning towards Roman slowly. “I want to know what is troubling you, but I can’t assist you if you won’t tell me.”

Roman just tugged at the skirt of the dress and said nothing.

“Your Highness,  _ please. _ Veronica—”

“That’s not my name,” Roman mumbled, eyes squeezed impossibly tight to try and hold back the tears, but it wasn’t working. “My name is not Veronica.”

“Oh,” Damien said dumbly. Then, he gasped. “Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry, my dear prince, I wasn’t aware that your family wasn’t accepting.” Roman’s head snapped over to Damien, who was staring at him expectantly. “May I ask for your name?”

“Do you promise not to tell my parents about this discussion?” Roman asked.

“On my honor,” Damien said. “Please, I wish to refer to you by your proper name.”

Roman hesitated. He still could get in trouble for this. Damien could go back on his word. But somehow...Roman didn’t think that would be the case. “...Roman,” Roman said. “Roman Augustus Ayer.”

“Roman,” Damien said, rolling the name over in his mouth, and Roman almost cried at someone using his correct name for the first time in what felt like eons. “I’m rather fond of that name. It suits you. Your brother’s name...was Remus, was it not?”

“Yeah,” Roman said with a shrug. “We were twins, like the legend from Ancient Rome. And...and when I looked up different names, Roman just felt...right, to me. I told Remus, and he laughed for a while before he started using it and my correct pronouns to refer to me when we were alone or we were discussing things with other people online. He accidentally let it slip in front of my parents, and they saw it fit to ‘set me straight,’ so to speak, and here I am.”

“Your Highness...I’m so sorry,” Damien breathed. “May I share a secret with you myself? One that my parents and I were going to share with you before the wedding?”

Roman tilted his head forward, beckoning Damien to continue.

“I myself am gay,” Damien said. He smirked. “Fitting, then, that you are actually a prince. My parents were going to explain to you that I might find myself a man as a lover, and it was nothing against you, but they wanted to appease your parents to avoid war, and that I found you a very lovely woman-because until now, that’s who I thought you were-I just felt no attraction to you.”

“And...and you don’t mind...the fact...that I am transgender?” Roman asked. “I mean, if you feel no attraction to the opposite sex...”

Damien laid a finger over Roman’s lips. “But that is just it, my dear,” Damien said. “You’re not of the opposite sex. You yourself are a man.”

Roman felt his eyes well up with tears, and Damien wrapped an arm around Roman’s shoulders, just letting him sit there, and letting him cry.

When at long last, the final tears Roman had were ebbing away, Damien offered him a small smile. “You don’t have to do this if you are not comfortable with it, but would you like to come with me and explain the situation to my parents?” he asked. “I assure you, they are very accepting, and the only negative response they may have will be outrage on your behalf. It may take some work, but I’m willing to bet they will have you a suit tailor-made for the wedding, if that is what you wish.”

“So...the wedding would still be happening?” Roman asked.

“If only for your safety, Roman,” Damien said. “You and I both know your parents were setting up a hostile environment for you to live in. I do not want to send you back there, and this is your only escape where both of us are absolutely certain that you won’t be treated as a woman the rest of your life. At worst, you have to act like a lady only when your mother is around, and perhaps your father. But around me? You can be a prince. I don’t even care if you decide to have a different lover than I. But I want you to be safe, Prince Roman. And I know that you are safe here, if nowhere else.”

Roman offered Damien a thankful smile, and gently hugged him. “Thank you,” he breathed. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s not a problem, my dear. I’m certain that with time, we may even be able to get you surgery or hormone replacement therapy, if that is something you want,” Damien said. “Now. Shall we go tell my parents?”

“Yes, please. So long as my mother isn’t with them, I would like to tell them about this,” Roman said, standing up shakily in his infernal heels.

“Ah. I’m afraid I cannot help you with that footwear immediately, but after the conversation with my parents, I’m sure my mother can convince yours to allow you to wear flats, at the very least.”

“That would be...amazing,” Roman laughed. “I can walk in these in a pinch, but really, I’d rather not.”

“I don’t blame you,” Damien said, laughing with him. “They look highly uncomfortable.”

“They’re about ten times worse than they look when you’re a man who’s forced so deep in the closet the only way to console yourself is to imagine that you’re in drag,” Roman sighed.

Damien winced. “...I am happy that you told me about this sooner rather than later, Your Highness. I may be able to get the tailor to help make you a suit rather than a dress for the wedding with minimal complaints about a change in plans. I make no promises, especially considering your family, but I can probably convince your mother to stay out of the room while the tailor does the fitting, and no one has to be the wiser about this except you and me.”

Roman smiled as they walked back inside. “My apologies for running out on you twice. Sometimes I just...can’t stand being called Veronica anymore.”

“I will make an effort to avoid your deadname around your mother, Your Highness,” Damien said. “And when we are alone, you will be no one but Roman.”

Roman felt tears prick his eyes as he smiled wider. “You’re entirely too kind to someone you have barely met,” he said.

“I disagree,” Damien said. “I believe that everyone, regardless of familiarity, should have their correct name and pronouns used. And other aspects of their identity respected as well.”

“That seems like too radical a thought for my parents,” Roman sighed, as Damien expertly led him through the halls. “And I hate that it’s true.”

Damien gave Roman’s arm a reassuring pat. “I know this is painful, Your Highness, but you’re just in a metamorphosis right now. Caterpillars liquify themselves before they can become butterflies. You’re just approaching...”

“My final form?” Roman teased. “This isn’t even my final form?”

“Pretty much,” Damien laughed.

Roman giggled along with him and they shared a genuine smile between the two of them. Roman was taken aback by how pretty Damien was when he smiled. His eyes crinkled at the edges and his smile was a little crooked, but it still put Roman’s own smile to shame.

As they approached one of the rooms, Roman’s smile faded as they could hear Damien’s parents. “I don’t hear your mother,” Damien whispered.

“True, and she would be laughing the loudest out of the three of them, so I don’t think she’s here. Probably calling my father to update him,” Roman muttered back.

“Roman, don’t take this the wrong way, but your parents are despicable,” Damien said.

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Roman said, rolling his eyes. “I found that out the hard way when my mother forced me to grow my hair out at age ten.”

Damien wrinkled his nose in disgust. “We’re getting your hair cut the day of the wedding. That morning, before the ceremony.”

“You promise?” Roman asked, painfully aware of how pitiful his voice sounded.

“Of course,” Damien said. “I want you to be comfortable.”

“Damien, we can hear you outside,” his mother informed them. “Is Veronica all right?”

Roman flinched, and Damien didn’t fail to notice. “Come on,” he whispered. “I’m here for you.”

Nodding, the two of them walked into the room. “I’m afraid there’s been a mix-up, Mother,” Damien said. “The Princess Veronica doesn’t exist.”

Damien’s mother and father looked at him in confusion. “How do you mean?” his father asked.

“He,” Damien said, “Is actually Prince Roman.”

“Oh!” Damien’s mother exclaimed. “Why didn’t your mother tell us?” she asked Roman.

“My parents...” Roman swallowed. “My parents aren’t accepting, Your Majesty. The whole marriage plan is an attempt to get me ‘back on the straight and narrow.’”

Neither of Damien’s parents said anything, or even changed their expressions. Roman shifted, and turned to Damien. Damien cleared his throat. “Mother, Father, remember Prince Roman isn’t familiar with your responses to unpleasant information.”

“We’re not mad at you, Roman,” the Queen said. “We are appalled with your parents’ behavior. That is completely unacceptable in our eyes.”

“I told V—I told  _ Roman _ that we would still be holding the wedding to ensure that he is treated like the prince he is. I don’t trust any of the other surrounding kingdoms to be accepting,” Damien said.

Roman felt a swell of affection as Damien corrected himself. Remus would do the same thing; pause, redo the sentence, and move on without a second thought, and that sort of response was one that Roman appreciated the most. “I just hope that you would allow me to be a prince at my wedding, rather than a princess,” Roman spoke up. “I can play the part in small doses around my mother, but I don’t want to walk down the aisle in a frilly white dress.”

“Oh, rest assured, Roman, I will not allow it,” the Queen said, a fire in her eyes. “No self-respecting woman should treat her son like that.”

Roman offered a genuine smile, and the Queen smiled back. “And just for the record, based on what I’ve learned about you from anecdotes from your mother, and your bravery standing up for yourself, I couldn’t ask for a better son-in-law.”

That elicited a laugh from Roman, and a few tears as well. “Thank you,” he breathed. “So much.”

“It’s our pleasure, Roman,” the King said, standing up. “If you wish, I can inform the tailor about this, and this evening he can get you fit for a suit, rather than a dress.”

“That would be perfect,” Roman said, grinning.

“I’ll make the call,” the King said, leaving the room.

The Queen stood as well. “I will be talking to your mother about allowing you to wear at least flats in terms of shoes, and let her know that you’re free to walk around in pants, too. She never has to learn that we know you’re transgender, Roman. We won’t tell her before the wedding, at any rate. And we won’t tell her you told us.”

“Technically, I told you,” Damien said.

“Exactly. And Damien would never reveal where he learned that information,” the Queen said with a wink.

Roman smiled as she walked away. “Your family is really nice,” he said to Damien. “It was hard to see before with the use of my deadname, but they really do care. Both about you  _ and _ me.”

“Well, to them you’re already family,” Damien said with a smile. “And they never leave family out to dry.”

Roman offered Damien a grin. “So, do you have to continue studying this afternoon? Have any meetings that you have to go to?”

“No, as I’m not yet the King, my father only makes me go to a few of his meetings a week, and today he’s primarily discussing the wedding with ambassadors. He doesn’t need me there. I have the afternoon free,” Damien said. “I was hoping I might spend it with you?”

“I was hoping you would say that,” Roman said. “I can’t hide from my mother forever, but being with you is a reasonable excuse for her to stop trying to snoop on me.”

“Well, there are many things we can do. If we head into town, I’ll have to let the head of the guard know, and he might chaperone us, but there are things we can do here as well. Do you have any hobbies that you’d like to continue here?” Damien asked.

“I adore painting,” Roman said. “I don’t know if you have the materials for that here, but in a pinch we can always make our way back to my home to grab my supplies.”

“I don’t believe I have much by way of painting materials ever since I went to university and made a disaster out of my art class,” Damien laughed. “But we can go into town and pick up materials, or even find one of those...what are they called? Those paint bars! You’re of legal age to drink.”

“Yeah, I’m nineteen,” Roman agreed. “That could be fun. Either way. I love going shopping for art supplies and I’ve never been to a paint bar before.”

“But we’ll be going into town no matter what, so I should alert Virgil so he doesn’t sound the alarm on me again. He’s hated me ever since I first tried to sneak out to spend time with my first boyfriend. He calls me a ‘flight risk’ at every security meeting he has,” Damien laughed.

“Oh, that sounds hilarious,” Roman said. “Are those meetings that you have to attend?”

“Yes, they are, and every time we have the meeting, every member of the guard turns to look at me when they talk about security risks,” Damien chuckled. “I’m surprised Virgil hasn’t taken my head yet.”

Roman laughed and said, “I’ll change into a pair of pants and some sneakers, and I can meet you at the front door so we can go?”

“Sounds perfect. I look forward to spending time with you,” Damien said, kissing Roman’s hand, and Roman short-circuited.

He stammered something along the lines of “You, too,” and walked out, dazed enough to nearly trip up the stairs he used to get to his room.

Once he was inside with the door closed, however, he grinned. He pulled out one of his favorite shirts, a bright red one that had  _ Queen _ written across it in gold glitter. He tore off the dress and changed into the shirt quickly, pulling on a pair of skinny jeans and sneaking out his red Converse which he had smuggled into his suitcase. He still admittedly looked like a woman, but he didn’t look outright  _ feminine, _ which was his about as much as he could ask for at this point.

He dashed out of his room and ran through the halls with a huge smile on his face. He almost felt like things were normal again. He could almost see Remus racing him to the kitchen and trying to trip him up in order to win.

But he slowed down when he was approaching the steps, deciding not to mess with a structure that he had fallen down a dozen too many times. He had a hair tie with him and began to braid his hair so it would stay out of his way on this little trip.

He walked down the steps, seeing Damien talking by the front door with another man. When Damien turned and saw Roman, he did a double-take, and stared a couple seconds too long as Roman walked over. He flung his braided hair over his shoulders and asked, “Shall we get going?”

The man looked between the two of them. “Prince Roman?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Roman said. “You are?”

“Virgil Maelstrom, head of the Royal Guard,” he said with a slight bow. “I’m impressed. I haven’t seen anyone make Damien go speechless like this since he first laid eyes on his...third? Boyfriend.”

“I’m not speechless,” Damien protested. “I’m just...”

“Speechless,” Roman and Virgil said at the same time. Roman grinned as Virgil laughed.

Damien sighed. “Let’s just get going,” he grumbled.

Roman practically skipped out behind Damien, chatting with Virgil all the while. “How’d you get a last name like Maelstrom?” Roman asked.

“Well, I had to pick something after my family disowned me and I didn’t want to keep their last name as a reminder anyway, so I decided I wanted to pick something with power. A whirlpool can be pretty powerful, and violent turmoil is basically my resting state,” Roman laughed at that, and Virgil smiled as he continued, “So I figured that Maelstrom just sort of...fit.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Roman said. “Not the disownment part, but the rest of it.”

“Eh, they didn’t like that I was gay, I didn’t want to stick around homophobes even if they were family,” Virgil shrugged. “Get in the car, I’ll drive you and Damien into town.”


	4. Chapter 4

Roman climbed in the car, where Damien was already waiting. He appeared to have finally gotten some of his voice back, because he said, “You look good.”

“Thank you,” Roman said. “I much prefer jeans and a t-shirt to  _ any _ dress I’ve had to wear,  _ ever.” _

“Understandable, but I wasn’t referring to your clothes,” Damien said. “You’re holding your head high, your shoulders are back and squared, and your voice is more confident and more compassionate at once. You come across as...well...regal.”

“I’m acting like a prince, you mean?” Roman asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I...suppose so,” Damien said with a sheepish grin. “It does sound silly, doesn’t it?”

“Only a little,” Roman laughed. “It’s easy to forget that people see you as royalty sometimes, until it’s thrown in your face. Because I don’t feel any different than any of my other, non-royal friends.”

“True. We’re all human at the end of the day,” Damien agreed. “And human nature seems to be forgetting that fact.”

Roman laughed as they drove into town, and Damien asked, “So, a paint bar? Or grabbing art supplies?”

“I think I’d rather just get the art supplies,” Roman said. “That way, we can save whatever materials we don’t use for a later date.”

Damien nodded. “Sounds good,” he agreed. “Virgil, do you know where the art store is?”

Virgil sighed. “Yes, I’ll take you there, but I won’t be happy about it. And if you get paint splatter everywhere again, I  _ will _ be telling your parents how your clothes got ruined.”

“It’s nothing a little rubbing alcohol and laundry detergent couldn’t fix,” Damien protested.

Roman snickered. “Not much of an artist, then?” he asked.

“I will admit I have had...multiple issues when it comes to art supplies. It wasn’t just the glitter when I was young,” Damien said.

“Yeah, he tried pottery, painting, dry media, wet media, any and everything, right down to graphite pencils and later, photography. He always ends up covered in  _ something,” _ Virgil piped up.

Damien sighed. “Thank you, Virgil, for enlightening Roman to my shortcomings.”

“You’re welcome!” Virgil responded brightly.

“No, I—” Damien cut himself short. “You know what? Fine. Whatever.”

Roman laughed as they pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. “Oh, come on, Damien, it’s funny! And it’s nice to know that you’re not perfect.”

Damien rolled his eyes and they made their way inside the store, Virgil beside them all the while, glancing around. “I’ll let you take the lead on finding paints,” Damien said. “I assume you’d know far more about what is and isn’t a good paint brand from experience. Just bear in mind that I’m a beginner, so please be kind and explain art jargon if I ask?”

“Of course,” Roman said with a smile. “I’m always willing to explain to someone who wants to learn! Remus and I used to talk about the things we had learned from different experiments in our preferred arts. I enjoyed painting and drawing, mostly different scenes of places I’d been or would like to go. Remus preferred writing. Often violent, gruesome, and dark stories, but it made him happy whenever he thought of something new. We’d swap creations and tell each other what we liked about them. I miss those days...It’s not that we  _ couldn’t _ do it anymore, but we have less time to pursue our passion projects.”

“I know the feeling,” Damien sighed. “I am pursuing a degree in History, but I would love to teach philosophy, given half the chance.”

“Really?” Roman asked in mild surprise. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Most people don’t,” Damien replied easily. “But I loved reading about philosophy ever since I was a young child.”

“Huh,” Roman said. “The more you know.”

“Indeed,” Damien said. “Now. The paints?”

“Oh! Right,” Roman said, heading further inside the store in the general direction he thought the paints might be. Damien gave him an amused smile and Roman rolled his eyes. “Shut up. You’ve been distracted by conversation before, surely?”

“I will admit to nothing,” Damien said simply, but he was smirking.

“That’s  _ basically _ saying yes,” Roman informed him.

“Ah, but it is not a definitive answer,” Damien pointed out.

Roman rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Damien. Damien laughed. “Not very princely behavior,” he teased.

“It’s just us here, no one has to say anything,” Roman shot back.

Damien’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Ah, but what if I want to? You may have to buy my silence.”

“Oh yeah? And how would I do that?” Roman asked.

Damien smiled enigmatically.

“Oh come on, that’s mean!” Roman laughed. “Tell me!”

Damien’s eyes looked around conspiratorially, before he whispered in Roman’s ear, “Get us to lose the chaperone.”

Roman looked at Damien in surprise, and Damien just smirked back. Roman looked around, noticing one of the smaller aisles that had children’s art supplies. He grabbed Damien’s hand and ran down the aisle while Virgil looked behind them, and then sprinted down the back of the store until they reached the paints. Roman looked around, smirking. “Not bad, eh? And we got where we were going!”

Damien grinned. “Oh, Virgil is going to kill us both.”

Roman laughed. “It was  _ your _ idea! I’m innocent!”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Damien said, nodding.

Roman laughed, looking at the different paints the store had to offer. “What do you think, oil or acrylic?”

“Don’t oil paints require paint thinner to use?” Damien asked.

“In some cases,” Roman agreed. “So maybe not oil today. I should probably make sure that you can paint at all before I bring out the fancy supplies.”

“There’s also watercolors,” Damien pointed out.

Roman shrugged. “True, but those are very tricky to use as well. If you’re not careful, you could wind up with mud as a picture.”

“Acrylic it is, then,” Damien said, walking up next to Roman. “Which brand should we get, and how much paint would we need?”

“A starter’s kit for each of us should be enough for now,” Roman said. “They have a deceptive amount of paint in them. Or, if you want something bigger, we could invest in tubes of cyan, magenta, and yellow. That’s how you can mix more vibrant colors.”

Damien hummed. “I think that if we’re going to be spending some time away from your art supplies, we should get the larger tubes, if only so you have more to work with. Cyan, magenta, and yellow? Should we get black and white as well for shades and tints?”

“Probably a good idea. I’m impressed with your knowledge of terminology,” Roman said.

Damien waved him off. “Trust me, Your Highness, the terminology is about all I’m good at when it comes to art.”

Roman laughed, just as Virgil dashed into the aisle. “You!” he exclaimed, pointing at the two of them. “You two are in huge trouble!”

“Uh-oh, he found us,” Damien stage-whispered, and Roman snickered.

Virgil stalked over, breath heaving in his chest. “Do you two have  _ any _ idea how terrified I was when I turned back around and you weren’t there?!”

“Virgil, we’re not toddlers, that tactic won’t work on us,” Damien said, arching an unimpressed eyebrow.

Virgil’s nostrils flared. “I thought the two of you were about to be  _ seriously hurt. _ It’s  _ my job _ to look out for the two of you and you treat it like it’s a game to get away from me when any number of people out here could be waiting for a chance to kill you.”

Roman felt just a tiny bit guilty. “We weren’t trying to make your job harder Virgil, we just...wanted some privacy.”

Virgil looked between them. Damien’s face revealed nothing, and Roman shrugged as if to say,  _ What else do you want from me? _

“Next time you want to make out, at least tell me where you’ll be making your attempt so I can make sure no one’s coming over,” Virgil growled.

“We will, Virgil, rest assured,” Damien said.

Roman sputtered. “We weren’t trying to make out!” he protested.

Virgil shrugged. “Why else would you want privacy?”

“We could be sharing secrets, or just want a moment to talk by ourselves without worrying about anyone else overhearing, for any reason! We don’t immediately go to the gutter when you’re not around!”

“Just immediately, hm?” Virgil asked.

“I...no! No, that is not what I meant and you know it!” Roman protested.

Damien and Virgil were both smirking to various degrees and Roman huffed. “You’re both being incredibly mean,” he growled. “And if that continues, you’ll both end up covered in paint by the end of the day.”

Virgil’s smirk dropped but Damien just shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” he simply said.

“But it would be the last,” Virgil warned. “Because I’m not getting in trouble for you being covered in paint, and I would never allow you near art supplies again.”

Damien held his hands up in surrender. “All right, all right, I’m done.”

“You promise?” Roman pressed.

“Yes, yes, I promise. If it means I get the chance to paint with you, then I won’t push this subject any further.”

Roman smiled, and proceeded to pick out some beginner’s acrylic paint, grabbed two brush sets, and then asked, “Mixed media paper, or canvas, do you think?”

“Canvas,” Damien said. “Much easier for me to work with a bigger surface that is very clearly  _ not _ a table.”

Roman laughed. “Okay, then. Canvas.”

“Maybe easels, too? We could do some on-site painting with those,” Damien pointed out. “And we have quite the scenery at the base of the mountain. It could be fun.”

“Sure,” Roman agreed. “Do you not have any easels remaining after your painting escapades?”

Damien coughed. “Well...my parents may or may not have tried to deter me from future endeavors by not keeping the materials around.”

Roman giggled. “Oh, it was really that bad?”

“Hush, you’re hardly one to talk,” Damien said. “You have plenty of embarrassing stories, too.”

“True, but they’re not relevant to this conversation,” Roman chirped.

Damien glared at Roman. “Traitor,” he muttered.

Roman just offered him a grin in response. Damien glanced away and gravitated towards a sign that said the easels were in that aisle. Roman followed, paint in hand, and Virgil trailed behind them again. Damien picked out two smaller easels, and then turned to Roman. “Canvases?” he asked.

“Right,” Roman said.

They grabbed a pack of canvases and went to the front of the shop and rang everything up. Once they had everything in the car, Virgil looked at them. “Where will you two be painting?” he asked.

“I was thinking halfway up the mountain, where we have quite the view of farmland, it’s beautiful scenery,” Damien offered.

“Sounds good to me,” Roman agreed.

“All right, I’ll drive the two of you up there,” Virgil said. “But if I see  _ any _ shenanigans with paint I will  _ kill _ both of you.”

Damien gave Virgil a playful salute. “Whatever you say,  _ Your Highness,” _ he said, voice soaked in sarcasm.

Virgil took a deep breath. “You’re really dead set on testing my patience aren’t you?”

Damien shrugged. “Well, you seem to be dead set on telling me what I can and cannot do when I’m my own individual, so it only makes sense to balance the scales somewhat.”

“Oh, you are playing a  _ very _ dangerous game, Your Highness,” Virgil warned. “Get in the car.”

Damien gave Roman a very satisfied smirk as he did as told and Roman followed him into the car. Virgil shut the door a little harder than necessary as he got in as well. He drove them to a point that Damien picked out and then Roman and Damien got their supplies out of the car, setting up the easels and canvases so they were facing the farmland. “This should be fun,” Roman said with a smile as Virgil continued up the mountain. “And it looks like we’ll be on our own for a bit.”

“We’re close enough to the castle that the guards can watch us from there and pick us up if need be,” Damien said simply. “So we’re not necessarily ‘alone’ but we do have some space.”

“Some much needed space,” Roman said, looking out at the farmland below and taking the paints, before gasping. “We forgot the palettes!”

“Oh, damn it,” Damien muttered.

Roman laughed.  _ “That _ was not a very princely response,” he teased.

Damien rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Your Highness. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Roman said. “I suppose we could mix the paint  _ on _ the canvas, go for a slightly more abstract way of painting.”

“Well, unless we want to call Virgil back down here, that’s what we’ll have to do,” Damien sighed.

“Yeah, I don’t want to call Virgil down over this,” Roman said, shaking his head. He grabbed the tube of cyan paint and popped the cap, pouring some onto his canvas...or attempting to. Nothing was coming out. “That’s weird,” Roman muttered. He turned the tube so he could see the opening, and gently squeezed. Paint splattered out of the tube, all over Roman’s face, and he sputtered as Damein burst into hysterics. “Oh, you think this is funny, do you?” Roman asked, picking up a glob of paint and flinging it at Damien’s face.

Damien stood stock still for a second, before he slowly reached for the magenta paint and poured some onto his fingers, flicking it onto Roman’s arm.

“Oh, this means war,” Roman said, pointing the tube of cyan at Damien and squeezing again, getting paint all over Damien’s shirt.

“How dare you!” Damien exclaimed, laughing. He poured out more magenta and smeared it across Roman’s face, getting some in his hair.

Roman cackled as he grabbed the yellow and used both tubes to smear paint over Damien, while Damien took the magenta and black and returned the favor. They chased each other around the easels, and Roman squealed as he lost his footing running backwards and nearly fell straight to the dirt, only to have Damien wrap an arm around the small of Roman’s back, catching him in a dip. The two were laughing and breathless, and Roman muttered, “Hi,” to Damien.

“Hi,” Damien laughed back. “Truce?”

Roman considered it, looked at the yellow paint he hadn’t dropped, and grinned, saying, “Nah,” and squirting paint directly into Damien’s wavy hair.

“How dare you?!” Damien exclaimed. “And I kept you from falling, too! I had to sacrifice my black paint to do that!”

Roman laughed and got back on his feet, exclaiming, “Catch me if you can!” as he flung one last glob of yellow paint at Damien before running away.

Now, Roman was fast, but Damien was undoubtedly the taller of the two of them, and he managed to catch up to Roman quickly, snagging the back of Roman’s shirt. He pulled Roman into a bear hug, effectively getting paint all over both of them. “Virgil is gonna kill us!” he laughed.

Roman shrieked with laughter and wriggled out of Damien’s grasp, shoving him to the ground and pinning him there as Roman grabbed all the cyan off his face that he could and painting little clouds all over Damien’s face. He was shaking so hard from his laughter he could barely make the shapes.

“Hey!” a sharp voice hollered from the top of the mountain.  _ “What _ did I just tell you two?!”

Roman and Damien shared a brief horrified glance before Damien was on his feet and grabbed Roman’s wrist, yelling, “Run!”

They both sprinted their way down the mountain, but soon found themselves outnumbered by guards driving their way down the road to barricade them in. Virgil barrelled down the mountain, breath heaving in his chest. “I said  _ no _ shenanigans with the paint!” he exclaimed.

Damien pointed at Roman. “Roman started it!”

“What?!” Roman asked. “Did not! It wasn’t my fault that the paint tube squirted into my face!”

“But it  _ is _ your fault that the paint was subsequently thrown onto  _ my _ face,” Damien said.

“You didn’t have to laugh!”

“You didn’t have to retaliate!”

“Boys!” Virgil snapped. “I don’t care  _ who _ started  _ what, _ you  _ both _ are complicit in the shenanigans and you’re  _ both _ covered in paint! What am I supposed to tell your parents, huh?!”

“I imagine you’ll tell them you left us alone for five minutes under the impression that we could be mature and turned to look at how we were faring once you reached the top of the mountain only to find us having a paint fight below,” Damien said, completely deadpan and with a straight face that Roman couldn’t possibly hope to achieve.

“You  _ both _ are walking up the hill and will be getting cleaned up before dinner this evening. I imagine that most of the dignitaries coming to congratulate you two on your engagement will  _ not _ want to see the two of you covered head to toe in paint.”

“Why do we have to  _ walk _ up the mountain, though?” Damien asked.

“Because we are  _ not _ getting the back seats of  _ any _ of the guards’ cars covered in acrylic paint!” Virgil hissed. “Do you have any idea how easily that stains?”

Roman raised his hand. “Actually, I do, and it’s not as bad as you might think,” he said.

Virgil glowered at him and Roman promptly shut up, following Damien and Virgil back up to the castle. Damien hissed as they approached the top. “Our mothers are waiting for us,” he whispered to Roman.

“Shit, what?!” Roman asked in clear panic. His mother was going to  _ kill _ him!

Damien took one look at Roman and grabbed his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she doesn’t chew into you  _ too _ much.”

As they reached the top, the two queens looking at them with twin unamused expressions, Damien scratched the back of his neck. “It’s...uh, my fault,” he said quickly. “One of the paint tubes exploded in my face on accident, I started the paint fight.”

“Damien —!” Roman hissed.

Damien held a hand up at hip level to stop Roman. “It won’t happen again,” Damien assured.

“You’re right, Damien, it won’t,” the Queen said. “Because you are not going to be allowed near any of Veronica’s art supplies for the remainder of the week.” Ouch. And not just because of the use of his deadname, even if it was for his safety.

Roman’s mother looked at him and he inwardly braced himself for what he knew was coming. “Veronica, I’m disappointed in you!” she exclaimed. “I raised you better than for you to engage in a paint fight! That’s not very ladylike behavior for  _ any _ woman, let alone a princess!”

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snarling at his mother, but he just nodded stiffly. “Of course,” he practically growled.  _ But I’m not a princess. _

His mother kept staring at him, but Roman was not going to give her the satisfaction of apologizing. Not to her. “Damien, you didn’t get any paint in your eyes, right?”

“Yes, I can still see,” Damien confirmed.

“Good,” Roman said, nodding. “Then we should probably change and get cleaned up. Virgil’s right; I doubt any visitors would appreciate the fine art that is...well, fighting with art.”

Damien barked a laugh, before covering his mouth with a hand. “I suppose you’re right,” he said with mirth in his eyes. “Although I must admit I like you in pants, they seem to do wonders for your confidence. Maybe tonight a pantsuit for dinner would be appropriate?”

Roman felt his heart soar at the excuse right there for him to take. “Sounds perfect,” he agreed, and together the two of them walked into the castle, while their mothers sent them one last look and a warning to behave.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that everyone reading this has an okay holiday season. If your parents aren't accepting, know that _I_ accept you and your identity, and I wish you the best for the new year. <3

Damien and Roman went their separate ways to get cleaned up. Roman went through hallway after hallway just under the speed of a run so he could avoid his mother coming after him. When he got to his room, he quickly picked out a plain white and grey pantsuit and took it with him two doors down to the shower.

He undid the braid in his hair and stripped to get in the shower, determinedly not looking in the mirror to try and avoid dysphoria as much as possible. He washed the paint off as quickly as he could, which wasn’t very quick. He dried himself off and was relieved when he could put clothes on, even if they were clothes that were made to accentuate his curves and his butt. Why did pantsuits have to go out of their way to make people look sexy? Not that he didn’t mind looking sexy, but he’d rather look masculine sexy than feminine sexy.

He walked out of the bathroom to find his mother waiting for him and he sighed. “What now, Mother?” he asked. “I’m putting my clothes away to be washed, I admitted I was wrong for participating in a paint fight, what more do you want from me?”

“You must behave ladylike, Veronica,” his mother hissed. “You are not a man, you must act like it!”

“Anyone can enjoy art, Mother,” Roman said. “Anyone can get caught up in emotions. What, are you worried Damien will find out about my being transgender and call off the wedding? Are you worried your perfect little plan is about to be foiled?”

“You are not a ‘transgender’ Veronica!” his mother hissed at him. “You must realize that sooner rather than later!”

“Why?” Roman challenged. “Why do I have to ‘realize’ something that is simply a lie?! I’m following your instructions, Mother! What more could you possibly want?! You can’t simply change my mind about who I am!”

His mother got in his personal space and he flinched, expecting a slap that never came. “If you don’t stop this silly charade and snap out of this delusion, then the Byron’s might very well have you committed!”

“That would be better than this,” Roman spat. “Because the  _ doctors _ would actually  _ listen _ to me!”

His mother growled and Roman just stared her down. Footsteps came up from behind him. “Is there a problem, Your Majesty?” Damien asked.

“No,” his mother bit. “Just talking with Veronica about family matters.”

“Ah,” Damien said, walking up to stand next to Roman. “I hope nothing serious is the matter at home?”

“No,” Roman said. “Nothing is the matter.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” his mother said.

“Remus is fine, Father is fine, I’m fine, the only one who seems to have a problem right now is you, Mother!” Roman shook his head. “I don’t understand how you can be so distressed by something that you yourself planned!”

Damien’s arm snaked around Roman’s waist and Roman tried to not be too obviously surprised. “Second thoughts about the wedding, Your Majesty?”

“No,” Roman’s mother said stiffly. “Veronica’s...confusion seems to be a bit more pervasive than I thought.”

“She seems of perfectly sound mind to me,” Damien said simply. “Is there something going on that I don’t know about?”

“No,” Roman said. “You know everything I know. Why my mother is upset is a mystery to me.”

His mother glared at him but Roman just shrugged. “I’m  _ fine, _ Mother. No need to worry.”

“I was hoping to talk to you, Your Highness,” Damien said. “About some things concerning the wedding. More specifically, the tailor coming in to take your measurements after dinner.”

“Oh,” Roman said simply. “Let me take my clothes back to my room and we can talk? Does my mother need to be in attendance?”

“Actually, I was hoping we could talk privately,” Damien said. “Nothing too risqué, just what you should expect from our tailor. And why it may be a good idea to stick to something...ah...non-provocative.”

Roman felt dread build in his stomach. “The tailor wouldn’t try anything, would he?”

“Goodness, no,” Damien assured. “He would, however, tell you exactly why your cup size is wrong, whether or not lace looks good on your body, and what color lingerie you should choose whenever you’re trying to impress a man, which is to say impress  _ me. _ He’s...mischievous. If you wear something modest he’s less likely to go into all those details. It’s not a one-hundred percent guarantee, but it does increase your odds of being spared those awkward moments.”

“Why would this need to be discussed in private?” Roman asked.

“Well, I have a tendency to wander into anecdotes, and I really don’t feel like giving Her Majesty an in-depth description of Remy’s advice on what type of jockstrap I should invest in.”

Roman’s mother went red and Roman snickered. “Oh, dear. Yeah, I don’t think  _ I _ would be interested in that either, however, so I think your simplified explanation here would suffice.”

“And here I was hoping for an excuse to talk to you alone,” Damien said, snapping his fingers and scuffing his feet on the floor.

Roman laughed. “You could just  _ ask, _ Your Highness.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” Damien asked with a smirk.

Roman laughed. “You are funny, Your Highness, I’ll give you that. How about I put my clothes in my room and then we can talk?”

“Sounds perfect,” Damien said.

Roman put the clothes away quickly, but not quickly enough. When he came back out, his mother was interrogating Damien quietly, no doubt asking him about if Roman had said anything out of the ordinary. “Your Majesty, I can assure you I would tell you if anything untoward were occurring. Everything is perfectly fine.”

Roman’s mother looked like she didn’t quite believe Damien. “You didn’t strike me as the mischievous type and then I walk outside today and you have my daughter covered in paint. Forgive me if I don’t trust you right away.”

“Mother!” Roman sighed as he walked over. “Damien is  _ fine. _ We  _ both _ were goofing off, that’s how the paint got everywhere. Don’t tell the man who you picked out for me to marry that you don’t trust him! That doesn’t come across very well.”

His mother glared at him. “I’m merely warning him about what I expect to see from him,” she said. “After all, I can’t have you marry just anyone.”

Roman glanced at Damien, who looked decidedly unimpressed his mother. “But Damien isn’t ‘just anyone,’” he pointed out. “After all, you said yourself that he’d treat me ‘like the princess I am.’ What could he possibly do to lose the trust you put in him?”

Damien flinched at the princess comment, but Roman’s mother failed to notice. She simply snarled and said, “Don’t backtalk me, young lady.”

Roman took in a sharp breath and grinned. “Hoo, boy, okay. There are  _ so _ many things wrong with that statement I don’t know where to start.”

“Um. Ladies?” Damien asked. “Might we be able to drop this conversation? Preferably before a shouting match starts?”

Roman cringed. “Sorry, Your Highness. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Damien shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, my dear. I just don’t want any bad blood brewing.”

Roman sent Damien a look that roughly equated to  _ It’s a bit late for that. _ He crossed his arms and said, “So, do you still want to talk to me?”

“Yes, actually,” Damien said.

Roman’s mother cut in. “I need to speak to both of you before dinner tonight, so how about we find some place to sit down and I’ll tell you what you need to know. Then you can be left to your own devices before dinner.”

“Why do we need to talk before dinner?” Roman asked.

His mother sent him a look. “Because one of our ambassadors knows about your little stunt back at home. You know which one and who. And we need to clear the air before she shows up.”

“Little...stunt?” Damien asked.

“I can explain further when we’re in private,” his mother said.

Damien shot Roman a nervous look but walked down the halls until they were in a small alcove in one of the corners of the castle. It was small, with only a sofa and two chairs, but the evening light streaming in through the windows and the light cream paint on the walls made it seem bigger than it actually was.

Damien took a seat on the sofa and Roman sat down next to him, giving him a good amount of personal space. Roman’s mother sat down in one of the chairs. “So this stunt,” his mother began, “Is part of the reason why Veronica is here. She got it into her head that she was somehow a man. Wanted to choose a different name, be addressed as a prince, and nearly cut off her gorgeous hair.”

Roman was amazed by Damien’s poker face. He didn’t give a single thing away. “I don’t understand why that would be a stunt,” he said.

“Well, her father and I talked to everyone in the castle about it and with enough pressing on her brother, it came to light that some of her online...‘friends’ convinced her to prank everyone by claiming she was a transgender. And her father and I realized that we had been giving her far too much leeway, if she thought that those sorts of pranks were all right. I mean, being gay and the like is a very serious matter,” his mother continued. Roman’s hands were balled into white-knuckled fists. “And we discussed it, and agreed that if she were to get married, she would be forced to drop this elaborate charade she had going on. As it was, she refused to be acknowledged as anything but a man, even after we found out about the fact that it was a prank.”

Damien looked at Roman’s mother and simply said, “I see.” He turned to Roman. “I assume that might be why your mother and yourself have been at odds while you’ve been here?”

“It wasn’t a prank,” Roman said, hands shaking. “It wasn’t.”

“But...you  _ are _ going by Veronica, now,” Damien said.

“At my mother’s insistence,” Roman huffed. “She thinks that I’m crazy, and malicious, and trying to make light out of a very serious ‘condition.’ And she didn’t tell you or your parents right away because she had hoped that no one who knew about this would come to the castle. I assure you that the only reason you are hearing about it now is because of this particular ambassador being at dinner tonight. She doesn’t want questions being asked, even if they deserve to be asked.”

“Oh,” Damien said. “I’m...still afraid I don’t understand. Are you a man, then?”

Roman’s mother stiffened. “It was all a prank!” she insisted. “Veronica simply doesn’t want to admit that she had been found out!”

“It wasn’t a prank,” Roman snarled. “It was a plan to get my hair cut short again. I hate it long. It was a plan to get myself to feel more comfortable in my skin. I hate being referred to as a princess. It was a plan to...to actually feel loved, for once.” Roman swiped at the frustrated tears coming to his eyes. “Because I don’t feel any love as Veronica.”

Damien blinked, grabbing Roman’s hands in his own. “Believe me my dear,” he said earnestly, “When I say that I will love you no matter what.”

“Veronica,” his mother prompted. “You will always have people who love you. You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not in order to be loved.”

“Then why can’t I be a man?!” Roman snapped. “If I will be loved no matter who I am, why can’t I be a man?!”

“If you are transgender, my dear, that is perfectly fine,” Damien said. “But according to your mother, that is not your identity. And I, for one, am willing to show you that you can be loved no matter who you are. I want to prove to you that you are worth love. Just as you are.”

“And beyond that, Veronica, Damien is a man,” his mother said. “He cannot just simply marry another  _ man.” _

It took all of Roman’s willpower to not laugh in his mother’s face at that statement. Instead, fury was coursing through his veins. “You’re not listening to me!” he exclaimed. “Either of you! You’re not listening to what I want! I  _ want _ to be a man! I  _ want _ my hair short, I  _ want _ to wear suits, not dresses, and I  _ want _ to be a prince!  _ Wanting _ that makes me transgender!” He hated the look of shock and hurt on Damien’s face as Roman stood, but Roman couldn’t have Damien getting in trouble just yet. “Why can’t you understand that what  _ I _ want changes  _ my _ identity?!  _ You _ wanting me to be a woman doesn’t affect me or how I identify! I am transgender! I am a man!” He sniffled, backing out of the alcove. “I am a man! And until you can see that, Mother, I don’t want to speak to you!”

He ran out of the room, down the halls until he was convinced his mother wouldn’t come after him. He slowed to a walk, shaking his head and trying to not cry. He was so frustrated with himself. He couldn’t even let his mom lie to Damien when Damien knew full well what the truth was. He couldn’t sit back and take it like a man when his mother came swinging at him. Even if he was going to be fitted for a suit for the wedding. Even if he was going to get his hair cut to his liking. Even if he was going to be safe with Damien at the end of the week, he couldn’t stand to be deadnamed and misgendered for however long he was around his mother.

Damien jogged up to him and sighed. “You know, Roman,” he drawled. “I’m sure this would be easier to hide if you didn’t shout from the rooftops that you’re trans. As it was, I had to convince your mother to let me come after you alone. She was convinced that  _ I _ was convinced of your ‘story.’”

“It might be easier for  _ you,” _ Roman spat. “But it physically pains me when she uses my deadname against me.”

Damien sighed. “You’re right, that was...insensitive,” he said softly. “My apologies.”

Roman shook his head and swiped at his eyes. “I’m tired, Damien,” he admitted. “I’m so tired.”

“I understand why,” Damien said. “I wish I could whisk you away from your mother tonight and we could just run for the hills. But I have a duty to the country, and your face is pretty remarkable; it would be hard for anyone to  _ not _ recognize you, even with your hair cut short and your chest bound.”

Roman sighed. “I don’t want to keep doing this, Damien,” he said. “I don’t. I want to jump off the cliff behind the castle and just...not be. But if I do that, when they find my body they’ll bury me in a dress and my tombstone would have my deadname. And I can’t have that.”

Damien shrugged. “Am I not a good enough reason to hang around?” he asked with a weak smile.

Roman laughed. “I try to not depend on people to live,” he said. “Because in all honesty I don’t think that tends to end well. For anyone.”

“You’re smarter than I am, then,” Damien said. “Because my list of reasons to keep this up are purely based on my parents and yourself. I want them to know I learned what is right and wrong from them and I want you to be safe.”

Roman shrugged. “You  _ can _ have people on your list, but they shouldn’t be the sole reason, is what I’m saying. You said yourself that you know what’s right and what’s wrong. And this falls under that. Your moral code is a good reason to do something. And what’s more, it’s not people-based.”

Damien sniffed a single laugh and nodded. “I suppose you’re right,” he acknowledged.

They stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning to look at each other. “Sorry about yelling at you,” Roman said. “I didn’t want you on the hook, because if I only yelled at my mother she would suspect that something was going on.”

“I understand,” Damien said, scratching the back of his neck and looking at the floor. “It hurt, but it was for my safety. Although it gives me a small glimpse into what you have to deal with, Roman, and I must say I’m not fond of it.”

Roman kept crying, and he muffled a sob with his fist. Damien tutted and hugged Roman fiercely. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed. “I’m so, so sorry that you have to deal with this.”

“It’s hard,” Roman said. “It’s too hard. I can’t...I can’t do it!”

“You can,” Damien assured. “It will hurt like hell, but you can get through it. And I’ll be right there for you if you need it.”

Roman sniffled. “Thank you,” he breathed.

They took a step apart as footsteps approached and a man wearing a simple black polo shirt and a tie came into view. “Your Highness,” the man said to Damien. “I believe your parents were looking for you.”

Damien winced. “Great,” he muttered. He turned to Roman. “Are you going to be fine on your own, Roman?”

“Not if my mother finds me,” Roman said.

Damien nodded. “Okay. Would having someone with you help?”

“Maybe a little,” Roman said with a shrug.

“Logan, would you mind keeping Roman company until dinner, seeing as how I’ll be preoccupied? His mother is not the most accepting sort and I want to make sure that he’ll be all right.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Logan said with a nod. “I anticipate I could take Roman to the library and hide away there, or perhaps smuggle him into the kitchen.”

Damien smiled. “Thank you, Logan.”

Logan nodded and said, “I went over your essay this morning, and it was acceptable. I expect your annotated bibliographies to be a little more thorough in the future, however.”

Damien groaned and scratched the back of his neck again. “My brain gets fried when it comes to those,” he admitted. “But I will try. Where are my parents?”

“Greeting guests who are arriving for the dinner,” Logan said. “I would expect them in the entryway.”

Damien nodded and gave Roman’s hand a squeeze. “I must talk to my parents, but Logan knows every inch of this castle, he can keep you hidden away from your mother until dinner.”

Roman nodded and let Damien leave, although he felt a pang in his chest as the first person to respect his pronouns and name in this castle left him. Logan looked Roman over and offered him a small smile. “You’re quite the dashing prince, Roman.”

Roman offered Logan a hesitant smile. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “Most people wouldn’t say so.”

“Most people would be blind, then,” Logan said with a small smile.

Roman laughed and played with his hair, undoing his braid and redoing it. “You know I’m to be married in a week?”

Logan laughed. “Yes, I am aware. Does not mean I cannot appreciate a natural beauty when I see one.”

Roman turned red and playfully shoved Logan. “Shut up,” he hissed. “I do not want to be bright red at dinner.”

Logan just offered Roman another smile. “If you are that affected by a simple compliment, Roman, you clearly have been deprived of people being honest about your beauty for far too long.”

“Stop!” Roman laughed. “I have been complimented before, but rarely has it been with my preferred gender descriptors in mind.”

Logan nodded. “I see,” he said. “Well, I suppose we must work to rectify that. If you wish, we can hide from your mother in the kitchen? Patton is an excellent cook and he’ll likely allow us samples if we ask nicely.”

“Sounds like fun,” Roman said.

“Excellent,” Logan gestured down the hallway. “Let’s go, I’ll show you the way.”


	6. Chapter 6

They went down many hallways on the way to the kitchen, enough of them that Roman lost track of where they were. He understood that they were taking the scenic route to avoid his mother, but this still seemed...extreme.

It was all made worth it, however, when Roman and Logan arrived in the kitchen, and Roman was instantly assaulted with the smell of sauces, and spices, and cooking food. Patton came over almost immediately with a smile on his face. “Logan! Nice to see you again! And you brought a guest!”

“Yes, we’re hiding Roman away from his mother,” Logan said.

Patton faltered. “Roman?” he asked.

“That is his name, Patton,” Logan said.

“Oh. Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know!” Patton exclaimed.

Roman waved off his apology. “My mother didn’t  _ want _ anyone to know, I’m not surprised that she would try to misinform you.”

Patton looked like he might slap someone at any moment. “I’ll give her the overcooked turkey, in that case.”

“Ooh, turkey tonight?” Roman asked, eyes lighting up.

“Turkey as well as spinach lasagna, for the vegetarians,” Patton said.

“That’s rather considerate of you,” Roman said.

Patton shrugged. “I get meal offers all the time that I follow even if they don’t make sense. Following a vegetarian meal plan is easy compared to some of the things I’ve seen in my day.”

“I’ll bet,” Roman laughed. “But I love turkey. My brother Remus and I would eat turkey sandwiches virtually every time we returned from one of our ‘adventures,’ it was by far one of my favorites for a long time, and I still have a soft spot for any sort of turkey because of it.”

Patton smiled. “You seem very fond of your brother,” he noted.

“He’s the best,” Roman said. “Very first person I came out to, and he was super understanding. I love him more than words can say.”

Patton nodded. “Yeah, you show that in the way you talk about him. Can I offer you something to eat before dinner? A sample of what you may have, for instance?”

Roman laughed. “Maybe a little, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all!” Patton chirped. “I’ll get you a piece.”

Patton puttered around the other cooks in the kitchen and grabbed a piece of turkey, returning to Roman with the piece skewered on a fork. “Go on, it’s encouraged to make sure that everything is cooked properly.”

Roman took the offered fork and took a bite, humming as the flavors burst on his tongue. “This is amazing, Patton,” he said with a smile. “Truly amazing.”

Patton grinned. “I’m glad you think so, Your Highness!”

“Are you going to be cooking for the wedding?” Roman asked.

Patton nodded. “That I am! Do you have any requests for food?”

“No requests,” Roman said. “Except that you put as much care into the dishes as you do with this meal.”

“Of course,” Patton said. “I put as much care and love into every dish as I can.”

“Excellent!” Roman exclaimed, beaming. “Then I can look forward to the food we’ll have by the end of the week.”

Patton laughed and shook his head. “You are too kind, Your Highness.”

“On the contrary, I think you’re too humble,” Roman said.

Patton offered Roman a grin before one of the doors to the kitchen opened and Damien poked his head inside. “Oh! Roman!” he exclaimed. “I thought you might be here. Everyone is beginning to get settled in the dining room, if you want to come out with me?”

Roman hesitated. He didn’t want to have to hide in the closet so soon after he had gotten out of it. But did he have a choice? Not really. “All right,” he said. “I’m not looking forward to playing the part of a princess, but I’ll walk out with you.”

“Oh, and his mother’s getting the dry turkey,” Patton informed Damien.

Damien got a wicked gleam in his eyes as he smirked at Patton. “You, sir, are  _ far _ more devious than you let people believe.”

“Part of my charm,” Patton chirped. “Now you two should go before the entire castle starts looking for you.”

“True,” Damien said, offering his hand to Roman. “My good sir.”

Roman laughed and took Damien’s hand, shaking his head. “You’re a mess,” he informed Damien. “You like to pretend to be together and suave, but in actuality you’re a huge mess.”

“I hope that won’t be a problem?” Damien asked.

“No, no problem,” Roman said, shaking his head. He grinned. “It means I get to laugh like a maniac whenever one of your schemes goes awry.”

“I am a prince, Your Highness. I do not ‘scheme,’ I ‘plan’ or more often ‘strategize,’” Damien corrected.

“Uh-huh, sure. Whatever you say,” Roman said, beaming up at Damien.

“Were we not monitored every second of every day I would tickle you in retaliation for that remark,” Damien hissed at him.

“Oh, good thing for me that we  _ are _ always watched, then,” Roman replied. Damien huffed and shook his head, but he was fighting back a smile. Roman laughed and nudged Damien. “Come on, you know you love me,” he sang.

“Mm. Love is debatable, seeing as how we’ve known each other all of a single day,” Damien said. “I do enjoy your company, however.”

Roman giggled as he stood on his toes and whisper-sang into Damien’s ear, “Gay~!”

“You little shit,” Damien hissed right before they rounded the corner leading to the dining room, where Damien’s parents were waiting.

“It’s good to know you’re comfortable around me,” Roman said, arching his eyebrows meaningfully. “I doubt many people see that side of you.” He glanced over at Damien’s parents and knew that they were within earshot in a second.

“You would be right that not many people know that about me,” Damien agreed. “But those who  _ do _ know me are aware that I do things such as that, and generally, they don’t care.”

“Mm. Your parents?” Roman asked.

“Don’t care if I swear like a sailor so long as I keep it clean among house guests,” Damien replied quietly and simply. “But being vague is in our best interest since we don’t know where your mother is or if she can hear us.”

Roman sighed. “True. Much as I hate it.”

Damien offered Roman an apologetic shrug. “Just one week, my dear, and then I will ensure no one deadnames you or misgenders you ever. For any reason.”

Roman shook his head. “You can’t guarantee that,” he said.

“I will do everything in my power to ensure that anyone you come into contact with respects your name and your pronouns, then,” Damien said. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Roman said. “I still don’t think you can guarantee that, but it is in theory more feasible and I appreciate the sentiment.”

Damien offered Roman a smirk before turning to his parents. “I found our guest in the kitchen,” he said. “Something tells me Logan took him there.”

“Per my request,” Roman said. “Don’t pin all of this on Logan. And besides! I only had one bite, which Patton offered to me! I didn’t steal any food!”

Damien laughed. “Okay,” he said.

“Everyone’s getting seated,” Damien’s mother said. “Are you both ready for the uncomfortable amount of attention you’ll be receiving?”

“Not really, but we may as well get it over with, right?” Roman asked, adjusting the ends of his shirt sleeves.

Damien’s mother smiled ruefully. “True. Don’t worry, my dear, the tailor has been informed about the change of plans and he will be here after dinner to take your measurements. And he will always be respectful.”

Roman offered her a smile. “Thank you,” he said. He blew out a breath. “Showtime.”

“You’re the most convincing drag act I’ve ever seen, for what it’s worth,” Damien whispered into his ear as they walked into the dining room.

Roman squeaked and smacked Damien on the arm. “Behave!” he warned.

Damien just grinned and walked Roman over to his seat, pushing him in as Roman sat down. There were quite a few dignitaries around his seat, including Mira, one of the ones who he had come out to before his parents found out. “Hi, Mira,” he said.

She offered him a pained smile. “Hi,” she said. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Roman nodded. “Likewise. You’ll be pleased to hear that I’ve been treated properly by everyone here,” he said, glancing at his mother, who sat next to Mira at the table.

“That’s good,” Mira said, and her shoulders relaxed minutely. When Roman’s mother looked away, she mouthed, “Roman?” And Roman nodded with a smile and a finger to his lips.

Mira’s smile grew into something more relaxed and genuine, and she nodded. “How do you like it here in general?” she asked. “I always enjoy visiting whenever my duties call for it.”

“It’s very nice,” Roman said. “Perfect scenery for painting, when the paint actually comes out of the tubes.”

Mira snorted. “Found another exploding tube, did you?” she asked.

“Indeed,” Damien said.

“Oh, no,” Mira laughed. “I’ve been on the receiving end of those, too, and it’s never fun.”

“No,” Damien agreed. “Can’t say I’m a fan of it either, when the paint wound up on me as well.”

Mira laughed and Roman cracked a grin. “It was fun this afternoon, though,” he said. “I had a fun time.”

“As did I, my dear,” Damien said, smiling at Roman. “As did I.”

“Oh, you two already act like you’ve known each other for years,” Mira laughed. “I love it.”

Roman smiled. He wished he could ask Mira to give a message to Remus, but he knew she’d be flying out tomorrow morning and would be nowhere near the castle, if Roman could even write a letter and slip it past his mother. His father would find it, knowing his luck, and then he’d be in even more trouble. He didn’t want to wait until whenever his parents decided to send Remus over to talk to him, but that seemed to be what was going to happen.

Damien put his hand on Roman’s and murmured, “Everything will be okay.”

“You can’t promise that,” Roman breathed.

“Maybe not,” Damien allowed. “But I won’t allow you to be hurt if it is at all in my power to prevent it.”

Roman offered him a small smile and the two let their hands break apart as cooks exited the kitchen with turkey and lasagna alike. Roman grinned as a large portion of turkey was placed in front of him, almost to the proportions of Damien’s plate. “Wow, they must know how much I eat,” Roman joked. “I can eat huge bags of chips in the span of three hours and not gain any lasting weight. I know that will likely be subject to change later, but for now, it’s nice that I have a plate that can actually leave me feeling full.”

“That is a good thing,” Damien agreed.

They all started to eat, and Roman didn’t fail to notice his mother mutter, “The turkey seems a bit dry,” as he tried not to cackle outwardly at Patton’s antics. As it was, Damien and him shared a glance and nearly burst into a fit of giggles, just the two of them. Roman savored the taste of dinner for as long as he could, as the ambassadors and dignitaries around them congratulated them on the wedding.

Damien fielded most of the questions, a fact for which Roman was thankful. Everything still seemed so surreal, and he couldn’t believe that everyone around him was convinced he was going to be a bride at his own wedding. Even being called “Veronica” didn’t sting as much right now, he was too caught up in his own mind.

What was going to happen after the wedding? Obviously, his parents were going to be furious. Remus would keep in contact if at all possible, obviously, but would his parents ever speak to him again? Would they believe that he was transgender, at long last, and change their tune? Or would he be stuck wondering what had happened to his family for the rest of his life after his marriage?

A hand on his own pulled him out of his musings. Roman realized he had his fists wrapped around the utensils in a white-knucked death grip, and he forced his hands to relax. “Are you feeling all right, my dear?” Damien asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Just thinking, I guess,” Roman said, glancing at Damien and smiling, before his smile faded as he stared at the table. “This still doesn’t feel quite real.”

“I know, I’m still in shock myself,” Damien said. “But if I have to marry anyone, you’re an...ideal candidate.”

Roman laughed at that, once, loud enough that the whole table stared at him. “Oh, yeah, and we both know why that is,” Roman teased.

Damien’s eyes grew softer and he relaxed into a smile as Roman felt a little bit of life rekindle inside him. “I believe the tailor will be arriving in fifteen minutes, which I assume gives you about twenty before he asks after you,” Damien said. “Not really any time for dessert, I’m afraid.”

“That’s all right,” Roman said. “After all, I’m having cake at the end of the week.”

Damien laughed and nodded. “I suppose that’s true,” he allowed. “But if you want to sneak a cookie later, let me know and I’ll see what I can do.”

Ripples of laughter floated around the table at that comment, and Roman went back to eating with a small smile. Damien kept near enough to Roman at all times that no one could say anything to Roman in secret without Damien hearing, and Roman appreciated the sentiment behind the gesture, even though he doubted he would be having a hushed argument with his mother in the middle of dinner. He finished his plate of turkey right as one of the workers came in and said, “Your Highness, the tailor is here for you.”

Roman sighed and squeezed Damien’s hand. “Try your best to not get eaten alive,” he said. “I’ll be expecting to talk to you soon, even if tonight isn’t available.”

“I imagine Remy will be keeping you for quite a while,” Damien said. “So I think I will probably not see you until at least tomorrow morning. Good night, my dear.”

Damien kissed Roman’s hand and Roman short-circuited quietly as he followed the worker out of the dining hall. “You and Prince Damien are an awfully lovely couple,” the worker said. “Even if you haven’t known each other for very long.”

Roman laughed. “Yeah, I do love to spend time with him. He’s rather charming.”

“I’m admittedly a little jealous,” the worker whispered conspiratorially. She continued, “He seems like such a dashing gentleman, and I would love to spend time alone with him.”

“Are you new around here?” Roman asked.

“First month here,” the worker confirmed. “Why?”

“Oh, just wondering. It seems like a lot of the older workers are used to him causing mischief,” Roman said. “They don’t seem to call him a gentleman as much.”

“The older workers probably remember him as a young child, though. Surely, he’s matured?” the worker asked.

Roman snickered. “Well, he and I went out this afternoon intending to paint the scenery below the mountain and wound up covered head to toe in paint from a paint war. If he has matured, he certainly has some rather large gaps where he relapses into mischief.”

“Oh,” the worker said, somewhat deflating. “I could have sworn he was more mature than that.”

“There are plenty of people out there more mature than anyone in this castle,” Roman said. “And if you want to pursue someone mature, I have no doubt you can achieve that. Just not with Damien. He’s a little too juvenile.”

“Too true, babes, too true!” a voice called from down the hall. The man standing there had sunglasses on and was wearing a nice leather jacket, with a T-shirt and jeans. At the very least, his shoes seemed to be somewhat new and formal, but the guy didn’t immediately strike Roman as someone who would fit in a castle such as this. “You must be my next client, the name’s Remy! Let’s come on, now, after all we don’t have much time before your big day!”

“Don’t remind me,” Roman complained. “My stomach twists in knots thinking about it.”

“Ah, relax, babes, you’ll look amazing when I’m through with you,” Remy said. “I can make anyone look amazing enough to stun everyone.”

“I don’t really care about that,” Roman said, walking into the room that Remy was standing next to, and when Remy closed it behind him, Roman said, “I just care that it’s a suit and not a dress.”

“Ah, yeah, the king called me, babes, told me about the change of plans. I took the liberty of bringing a couple of the binders I’ve made in the past over to see your size and get accurate measurements for the suit tonight.” Remy walked over to a box and pulled out a couple different tank tops. “What’s your cup size?”

Roman crossed his arms and huffed. “That’s hardly any way to treat someone you’ve only just met.”

“Babes, I need to know so I can get the right sized binder, not so I can drool over your measurements,” Remy said.

“C-cup,” Roman sighed. “They’re not huge, but they’re still too big for my taste.”

“Understandable, babes,” Remy said, pulling out a plain white tank and tossing it at Roman. “Put it on like a shirt. Warning, you will get stuck. At least once.”

Roman took off his suit coat and blouse without issue, but he hesitated at the bra, with Remy still standing there and observing. “Uh, you gonna turn around?” he asked.

“I need to make sure you’re not going to die in that thing, babes, and if you get stuck I’ll be the one who has to help you. And anyway, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Remy said. “You have my word that I won’t try anything, m’kay?”

“Okay,” Roman breathed, unhooking his bra and sliding it off. He took the tank top and pulled it over his head, got his arms through the holes...and couldn’t pull it down any further. “Um?” Roman tried to move his arms, weakly grabbing at the bunched up fabric. “Is this normal?”

“It is a newer chest binder, so yeah,” Remy said. “May I?”

Roman tugged and tugged but nothing budged and he was still stuck. He sighed. “Yeah, sure. Just don’t grope anything.”

“Would never dream of it, babes,” Remy said. He walked over, grabbed the bottom of the tank, and gently pulled it down over Roman’s chest, and down to just above his pants. “How does it feel?”

Roman was too stunned to respond. When the binder went on, his chest looked...completely flat. He looked like a man from the torso up. He grinned. “That’s amazing,” he breathed. He tried to inhale but stopped about halfway through what he should have been able to do. “I can’t breathe very well, though.”

“Do you feel like you can’t get air  _ in _ or does your breath just feel  _ short?” _ Remy asked. “Because those are two very different situations.”

“It feels short,” Roman said, still struggling to breathe deeply.

“Okay, then that’s completely normal. Binders constrict your whole chest, not just your breasts, so as a result you’ll feel short of breath the first couple times you wear them. You also shouldn’t wear them swimming unless they’re specifically built for swimming in, and you should  _ never _ exercise in one, clear?”

“Crystal,” Roman said.

“Good. Most trans guys I know tend to wear their binder every day until they get surgery. Not all of them, but enough. And as tempting as it might be to keep it on all the time, your body has limits you shouldn’t cross. Meaning no exercise, no swimming, take it off after eight hours or whenever your body starts to ache, and for the love of god, don’t sleep in it,” Remy instructed.

“Got it,” Roman said. “I probably won’t be able to wear it around the castle, though, anyway, because of my mother...”

“Yeah, I gotcha, babes. I won’t force you to hide this in your room, I might need it when I go to sew everything together, anyway. But I need to know it fits you, and that you know your limits in it, before I can go any further.” Remy moved away and grabbed a measuring tape. He grinned. “Now comes the fun part,” he said with obvious glee.

Roman felt dread build in the pit of his stomach. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

“I’m going to  _ measure _ you!” Remy said. “And it’s going to take a while to get everything right, which means I have a captive audience of one!”

Roman’s relief only appeared at a fraction of its usual intensity. “What do you want to talk about?” Roman asked.

Remy’s eyes lit up. “Okay, so I have a boyfriend, right? His name is Emile. Sweetest guy on the planet. Also dumb as rocks.”

Roman nodded along as Remy continued, which mostly consisted of this boyfriend of Remy’s trying to earn the trust of a local feral cat in the area. And every time he went to pet it, the cat would hiss, or scratch, or bite Emile. Clearly, Emile just thought he hadn’t built up enough trust in the cat and kept trying, kept continuing to try and pet the stupid thing, only to again, get scratched, or bitten, and get a tetanus and/or rabies shot. And, to top it all off, the man was terrified of needles.

“Why don’t you tell him to wait to pet the cat?” Roman asked.

“I have!” Remy said. “I tell him every time he comes home with a scratch or a bite that he has to wait! And he might never get to pet it because, you know, it’s  _ feral, _ but he doesn’t care! He just keeps trying, babes, and honestly I worry about him. He has a PhD in Psychology, but he’s got approximately zero common sense.”

Roman giggled. “Hey, my parents are the leaders of an entire  _ country, _ and they don’t have any empathy to speak of, so maybe that’s just a common thing if you’re an expert at one thing. You’re absolutely terrible at another.”

Remy sighed. “I hope not, babes. I hope there’s at least  _ one _ competent person out there who can do everything mostly okay, you know?”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Roman said. “But if that one person isn’t in a position of power, then what sort of difference are they going to make?”

“You never know,” Remy said with a shrug. “Someone who’s good enough with people can find those who will be listened to.”

“But if they’re that good with people, then that means they’re no longer a jack of all trades, and therefore they will be incompetent at something,” Roman pointed out.

Remy gave Roman a slightly irritated glance. “Are you always this annoying and determined, babes?”

“Only around people I’m comfortable with,” Roman said, letting Remy circle him and keep humming to himself about measurements.


	7. Chapter 7

They continued for about half an hour, Remy just humming and writing things down and muttering to himself, and Roman just thinking. Thinking about how he would finally get to look and feel like a man. Thinking about how he’d be able to go by Roman and have no one question it. Thinking about how he’d get to medically transition, at least with top surgery, because he knew he wanted that for himself.

...Thinking about how his family would react when they saw what the Byrons did. Thinking about how furious his mother would be. Thinking about how glacial his father’s reaction to Roman would be. Thinking about Remus. Would Remus be allowed to visit him? Or would his parents cut him off?

He knew the second option was the far more likely one. And if Remus ever snuck out to see Roman and just hang out for a few hours, and he got _ caught, _ Remus might wind up in a situation painfully similar to Roman’s: stuck with a _ wife _ who would keep him from being able to leave the castle at any time without either dragging her along or telling her where he would go. And of course, it didn’t matter that Remus was asexual, and demiromantic, he’d get someone he was doomed to never know or trust as a spouse.

Roman couldn’t breathe. Tears were falling down his face and he was trying to suck in a breath but it wasn’t working, and he was feeling impossibly light-headed because of it.

In an instant, Remy was in front of him, pulling the binder off of Roman, and holding him close, shushing him gently. “Hey, Roman, it’s okay, it’s okay, breathe for me? In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Can you do that for me? Just breathe. It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

Roman sobbed into Remy’s shoulder, his own arms up trying to cover his chest, so he didn’t have to remember it was there, so that he couldn’t see the two heaving mounds of flesh when he tried to suck in air. It wasn’t working. He was too aware of his body, too obsessed over the fact that he wouldn’t get to see his brother, too tired to do anything except bawl his eyes out in front of a virtual stranger.

Remy guided him to the floor, and slowly helped rehook Roman’s bra on him and pull his button up over his arms, doing the buttons with expert efficiency. Roman just continued to cry, sobs tapering off some now that the panic of not being able to breathe was gone, but he still couldn’t fight the hollow feeling of being truly and utterly alone, alienated from his entire family.

“Babes, tell me what you need,” Remy said. “If you can. Do you need water? A snack? Comfort? What has you panicking?”

“I’m...I’m...I’m...” Roman took a deep breath. “I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life. I won’t be able to see my brother ever again once my parents realize what’s going on.”

“Not true, babes,” Remy said. “If nothing else, Damien can kidnap your brother and bring him over here if you really want to talk to him. But your brother is his own person. No matter what your mother threatens, or what your father says, no one can stop him from coming here if that’s what he wants.”

“They can, though,” Roman whimpered. “They could kick him out, and I don’t want him taking that risk.”

Remy sighed through his nose. “Listen, babes, we can argue all night over whether or not you’ll get to see your brother again. But at the end of the day, I don’t think that’s going to make you feel better, is it?”

“No,” Roman breathed.

“How about this,” Remy said, patting Roman’s knee. “I go find someone who knows you better than I do, and knows about you being trans, and you can talk with them?”

“Sure,” Roman said. “Do you...do you need more measurements, though?”

“Hm? Oh, no,” Remy said. “I already double-checked everything. I just really like having a captive audience, and I’ve been known to talk for hours at a time, so I _ could _ keep you here the rest of the night, but I don’t think that would be the best idea.”

Roman sniffled and laughed weakly. “Okay,” he said.

“I’ll go grab someone better equipped for this than me,” Remy said.

Roman grabbed Remy’s hand as he stood up. “Can you get Damien?” he pleaded.

Remy looked briefly surprised, before he nodded. “Yeah, of course, babes,” he assured. “Deep breaths, okay? I’ll be right back. Play on your phone, if you have it. Keep yourself occupied, and try not to think too much.”

Roman felt at his pockets before he realized his mother must still have his phone. “I’ll have to ask my mother for my phone tomorrow morning,” Roman said miserably. “She confiscated it after my coming out.”

Remy growled. “She’s certainly not endearing herself to anyone in this castle, that’s for sure. Hang tight, babes. I’ll be right back.”

Roman nodded and when Remy left, Roman tucked his knees under his chin and wrapped his legs in a vice grip. He was still crying, but he felt hollow rather than impossibly sad, now. The worst of the storm had passed, then. Unless this was actually the eye of the hurricane, in which case Roman had better grab a box of tissues.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, just staring off into space. The sun had set during dinner, so the room was bathed in the warm, albeit faint glow of artificial lighting, but the moon wasn’t within Roman’s sightline even if he looked out the window.

The door opened softly and Remy gestured inside. Damien walked through, murmured a quiet, “Thank you,” and Remy closed the door to give them privacy as Damien approached Roman.

Roman looked up as Damien approached, and sat down next to Roman, wrapping an arm around Roman’s shoulders. “I don’t want to be alone,” Roman rasped. “I don’t want to be here the rest of my life and never see Remus again.”

“My dear, I would never allow that to happen,” Damien assured.

“You can’t promise that!” Roman exclaimed. “You can’t promise that Remus will be able to see me! You don’t know my parents! They would cut me off from the family, never speak to me again, and if Remus was caught communicating with me he would...he would...he would meet the same fate they planned for me. Hetero ever after.”

Damien gave Roman’s shoulders a squeeze and murmured, “My dear, I could request for him to come over for conferences. I could invite him to dinners. To ceremonies. They couldn’t refuse him coming over to those events without risking me raising hell. And I would raise hell, my dear, purely because you love your brother and want to see him.”

Roman swiped at his eyes and whimpered. “I don’t want to be here,” he whispered. “You’re very sweet, Your Highness, and I’m pleased to be your friend, but I would rather be at home, somewhat miserable being in the closet around my parents. I don’t want to be forcibly shoved back into the closet by my mother and have her lock the door and throw away the key. It just...Your Highness—Damien...I just...I know that in a week I will get my way. And they can’t take back the marriage. But...knowing what I have to go through to get to the end of this week, and knowing that the consequences will last much longer than that...it hurts.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Damien said. “I know you can get through it, my dear prince. I know it will hurt like hell, but you can get through it. Because you’ve come this far. I don’t want you coming this far just to give up.”

Roman’s chest ached. “I can’t do it, Damien,” Roman said softly. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Damien said. “However...that does not necessarily mean you _ should. _ You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. Right now, though, it is necessary as a safety measure. But believe me, Roman, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you will get to see your brother. Whether you are out of the closet or not.”

Roman’s chest still ached, but his heart did warm some at that declaration. A cute guy reassuring him that everything would be all right, and that he would get what he wanted in the end, even if there was a while to go before he could _ get _ to it...he felt like he was in a romance novel. “I hope you realize you sound like the male protagonist in a stereotypical rom-com,” Roman said to Damien.

Damien laughed, his nose wrinkling as he tried to stifle his giggles, putting a hand to his mouth. “Well, I am telling the truth,” he said when the giggles subsided. “Most men in romantic comedies are gentlemen in the traditional sense by the end of the movie. And I may get into mischief, my dear, but I am nothing if not a gentleman.”

“A gentleman who just so happens to get into paint wars,” Roman giggled.

“Precisely,” Damien said with a soft smile.

Roman shook his head and laughed softly, so softly he could barely hear it himself. “Thank you,” he said. “That made me feel just a little bit better.”

“I’m happy to help,” Damien said, giving Roman’s shoulder another squeeze. “You do all the hard work, though. All I have to do is remember to use she and Veronica around your mother. You’re the one who has to bear the pain that brings.”

Roman sighed. “Yeah. And it’s not a light sting, either. It’s a dagger through the heart. Because it reminds me that for every person I know who accepts me, there are at least two more who won’t. And two of the people who matter the most are among those who would prefer me dead to being a man.”

Damien shook his head, and Roman was surprised to see unshed tears in his eyes. “The sheer amount of times you must have felt that pain, by my own hands...it’s unacceptable.”

“It’s okay, Damien—”

“—No, Roman, it’s not,” Damien said, cutting Roman off. “I know that using your deadname is a safety precaution for the next week. I am referring to when your mother brought you over here.”

“You didn’t know any better,” Roman said. “There’s no way you could have known.”

“My knowing or not is not what matters,” Damien said. “What matters is whether you were hurt or not. And you were hurt. I’m not trying to make this about me, but I can’t help but feel upset knowing that I hurt you the same way your parents have.”

Roman looked at Damien, really _ looked _ at him, and noticed the slight trembling in his body, the stiffness in his posture, the unshed tears in his eyes continuing to build up until he blinked and they started to fall. Roman swiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb. “But that’s the thing, Damien. You didn’t hurt me the same way my parents did. When I came out to you, it was like a switch was flipped and you instantly started using my real name and pronouns. You may have tripped up, but you made the effort. Something that my parents never did. You may have inadvertently hurt me this morning, but when I told you what was going on you stopped. The only reason you do it now is because the risk of injury is greater if you don’t do it around my mother, and even then you simply try to avoid using my name, rather than simply deadnaming and misgendering me, and expecting me to grin and bear it. You didn’t hurt me the way they did. You never would.”

Damien laughed and Roman sent him a quizzical look. “We’re both miserable right now,” Damien explained. “And I predicted that the both of us would be miserable for at least the first day, if not for longer, although it was for an entirely different reason. I thought we’d be miserable over the marriage, not over the fact that your parents are trying to kill you slowly.”

Roman laughed. “Oh, yeah. I could imagine that. Both of us sulking in our rooms that night, you because you’re forced to marry a woman you can’t love, myself because I’m forced to marry a man who doesn’t know who I truly am.”

Damien offered Roman a weak grin. “I’d say this is a better way to be miserable, however.”

“True,” Roman laughed. “Oh, and I will warn you for tomorrow morning...I can’t dance. Like, at all. I constantly trip over my feet and step on other people’s toes. The dance lessons we both know our mothers will force us to go to, in order to decide what we want our first dance to be, are not for you, but for me.”

“That’s quite all right, my dear,” Damien said with a soft smile. “I don’t mind if my toes get stepped on a couple times. It would mean that you’re safe, and that is enough to get me through any pain from crushed toes.”

Roman offered Damien a smile. “If I didn’t know any better, Damien, I would say that you _ like _ me.”

“Oh, shut up,” Damien said. “You can make gay jokes all you like when we’re alone, but that does not mean I’ll humor you with them. You will have to be enough to amuse yourself by.”

Roman heaved a put-upon sigh. “Oh, all right,” he groaned. “But if I see you crack a smile at one of those jokes, I _ will _ be calling you out on it.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Damien said with a smile. “Do you feel better?”

“Marginally,” Roman said. “Laughter is good for the soul, and I think I would be able to sleep tonight without crying myself into exhaustion first.”

“Then shall I escort you to bed?” Damien asked. “You have been up here for a while, and I don’t know when you fall asleep normally...”

“I generally sleep around midnight, in my time zone, without exception,” Roman said. “I’ve never had to travel halfway around the world before, so I haven’t struggled with time zones there. But I will say that I believe our kingdoms are in the same time zone, and if I do fall asleep before midnight, it would be due to sheer simple exhaustion.”

Damien offered Roman a rueful smile. “Unfortunately, I believe that you’ll be asleep the moment your head hits the pillow tonight.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Roman sighed, before stretching with a yawn.

Damien stood and helped Roman to his feet, grabbing Roman's suit coat. “For what it’s worth, my dear, I’m very happy that you requested I be the one Remy fetch for you.”

“He told you that?” Roman asked, cheeks flaring red.

“He was a little panicked about your well-being, and therefore I was able to get a little more information out of him than usual. Had he gotten anyone else, I’m sure he wouldn’t have divulged even why you were panicking, but he must have assumed that I would understand why you were so distressed if you asked after me,” Damien said. “Don’t blame him.”

“I might still call him a snitch,” Roman said.

Damien laughed and walked over to the door, Roman trailing behind him. Remy was on the other side of the door, waiting. “The room is all yours, Remy,” Damien said. “Thank you for fetching me.”

“Next time, though, don’t tell him I asked for him specifically, snitch,” Roman said with a weak smile.

Remy offered Roman a smirk. “I make no promises, babes. Your hubby here might be flattered that you’re asking after him.”

Roman’s cheeks flared red again. “Listen, it’s slightly embarrassing, all right? I just wanted someone who I knew wouldn’t judge.”

Remy shook his head as he walked in the room. “That’s not embarrassing, babes, but I’ll keep quiet, I suppose.”

“Thank you,” Roman said.

Damien led him down the halls back to his guest room. Roman thought he was starting to get a handle on where everything was, at least somewhat. Even if he didn’t know what half of the rooms were for, he could identify which hallway they were in and how deep inside the castle they were.

When they stopped outside Roman’s room, Roman was reluctant to face Damien to send him off. He took a shaky breath. He would be okay on his own, he knew that. And Damien would need his sleep as well. Especially if Roman would be dancing with him tomorrow morning, like he suspected his mother had planned. “Thank you, again,” Roman said. “I suppose it’s somewhat silly to freak out over my brother—”

“—Not silly at all,” Damien assured him. “You were worried about losing someone you love. That is always distressing, without fail. You have nothing to be ashamed of for this.”

Roman offered Damien a soft smile. “You’re too kind,” he said.

“On the contrary, my dear, I believe you are too lenient in your expectations,” Damien said.

“Well, considering my family, are you surprised?” Roman teased.

Damien shook his head with a sigh. “No, unfortunately, I’m not.” He leaned down slightly and kissed Roman’s forehead. “Rest well, Roman. You have a full day tomorrow, my dear.”

Roman dazedly watched Damien walk away, too stunned by the forehead kiss to do anything except stare after him for a good two minutes. By the time Roman came back to himself, Damien had rounded a corner and was out of sight. He blinked rapidly, turning to the door and walking into the guest room, closing the door with a shaky breath. What about that made him so breathless, he didn’t know. Was it just the fact that a cute boy was giving him attention? That was probably it. Not Damien himself, per se. Just his looks. That didn’t make the butterflies go away, but it did soothe his brain into switching topics, namely getting to sleep. As Roman got ready for bed, he contemplated how early tomorrow morning he’d be woken up, and how long he could go without encountering his mother. He knew it wouldn’t be that long, but, hey. A man could dream, right?


	8. Chapter 8

Roman woke up the next morning to a harsh knocking at his door and an unpleasant voice demanding his attention. “Veronica, open up, I know you’re still in there!”

Sitting up silently, Roman rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and went to answer the door, greeting his mother still in sleep shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, and wearing nothing else. “Do you need something, Mother?”

“You’re having breakfast with Rose and I,” his mother told him.

“I’m still exhausted, Mother—”

“—This is not a request, Veronica,” his mother said. “You  _ will _ be having breakfast with us. You cannot run away from your duties and hide behind Damien forever.”

_ I can certainly try, _ Roman thought. “That’s not what I’m trying to do, Mother. I wish to know the man I’m going to marry, beyond his name and basic knowledge of his interests. If that means I’m running away from my duties, then I fail to see why you would set this up. You of all people should know I like to get to know people better than just surface knowledge if I’m going to be spending a lot of time with them. And Remus is the same, especially with romantic ventures. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.”

His mother huffed. “You still must have breakfast with us. You will be spending a lot of time around Rose, as well.”

“If you don’t mind me looking and feeling dead inside at breakfast, yeah, give me two minutes to get dressed,” Roman said, closing the door. He grabbed a T-shirt and looked through his suitcase, grimacing when he saw no more pairs of jeans. He had forgotten that his mother had made him pack all his feminine clothing first. So he put on one of the least form-fitting skirts and opened the door again. “Acceptable?” he asked.

“You should wear your hair up,” his mother said. “You look so much prettier with your hair up.”

Roman resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “May I have my phone back after breakfast, Mother? I want to add Damien to my contacts.”

His mother sighed. “I suppose,” she allowed. “But no talking to those online friends of yours! We got rid of those apps that you had on your phone that allowed you to talk to them, but I don’t want to see you redownloading them!”

Roman sighed. “Is that really necessary, Mother? They’re my friends, they deserve to know that I’m all right.”

“They were hurting you, Veronica, and I will not allow you to delude yourself about this transgender... _ thing _ any longer!”

Roman resisted the urge to flinch, and the urge to growl. “I’ll text Remus and see if he can tell them I’m all right. I haven’t been able to talk to them in a week, they’ll be worried.”

His mother sent him a glare, and Roman just shrugged. “I don’t want them thinking I’m dead, Mother.”

“And if they try to contact you outside those apps?” his mother asked.

“They can’t,” Roman said. “I never gave them my email address or my phone number. They’ll be relieved that I’m alive, and you can still isolate me from the only people who ever understood me.”

“Don’t act like that, Veronica,” his mother scolded. “You know everyone at home loves you. We just want you to see sense.”

Roman sighed in frustration. “Whatever,” he growled. “Let’s just have breakfast.”

His mother gave him a warning glare but they both walked down the halls to a dayroom where the Queen was already waiting. She smiled at Roman, and Roman offered a weak smile back. He really wasn’t looking forward to this. Not because he didn’t want to spend time with the Queen. She seemed really nice, and inviting, and she was more than accepting. But because his mother was there, he would be forced to stay in the closet during the entire conversation that was breakfast. And that pained Roman to no end.

No sooner did Roman and his mother sit down than Patton swooped in, carrying three plates on a tray in one hand, and a tea set in the other. Roman whistled. “Nice balancing act,” he said.

“Thank you, Your Highness!” Patton said, giving him a big, toothy smile. “It took many years of practice to get it down, but once I figured out how to place everything so no one side is topheavy, I could run through the halls with trays over my head and still keep everything in place!”

Roman grinned at Patton, ignoring the way his mother was giving him a searching stare. “Maybe you could teach me some time, that could be fun,” he said.

“I could enlist both you and Damien to help me in the kitchen and teach you both how to balance anything,” Patton laughed. “Although, I must admit, with Damien’s track record for balance, I’m not sure that would end well.”

Roman snickered and the Queen laughed a little, herself. “My boy is talented in many things, but balance is not one of them,” she said. “That seems to be where most of his art problems stem from. Not looking where he’s going, or misjudging how light or heavy a piece of pottery will be. Then he inevitably drops  _ something _ and whatever he dropped proceeds to get in every nook and cranny in the room he was working in.”

Laughing outright at that, Roman said, “I certainly hope no one ever hands him a child, then.”

Patton snorted, said, “It’s a bit late for that, Your Highness,” and left.

Roman turned to the Queen and she sighed. “Yes, Damien has tried to hold children before. Family members, sitting down, of course, but he never could quite cradle them correctly, let alone pick them up.”

“Has he gotten any better at it?” Roman asked. “Any improvement? At all?”

“If he has improved, I haven’t seen it,” the Queen said with a slight smile.

“That might be a problem,” Roman’s mother cut in. “When you two have children, he’d have to learn how to balance very quickly, or risk not being able to hold them at all.”

Roman grimaced, busying himself with grabbing a plate of breakfast (pancakes, he was pleasantly surprised to find), and a cup full of tea. He hadn’t even considered that he would be expected to have children. If the thought of sex had repelled him yesterday, the thought of children today made his heart leap into his throat and his stomach sink into the depths. “I don’t know about children at this point, Mother, Damien and I aren’t even married yet.”

“It’s never too early to think about these things, Veronica,” his mother pressed.

“Yes, it is,” Roman said. “I may have played house as a child but that doesn’t mean I’m ready for a baby now. It’s...more than a little stressful to think about, so I’d appreciate it if we took the discussion in a different direction.”

“That works for me,” the Queen said. “Diana?”

“She will need to plan for it,” his mother protested.

“Yes, but there’s already an entire wedding to plan. One thing at a time, I think, will help Veronica adjust better.”

His mother sighed. “I suppose,” she allowed.

“So,” the Queen said. “I spoke with your mother quite a bit yesterday, Veronica, but I didn’t see very much of you. Is there anything you believe I should know about you?”

“Other than the obvious?” Roman asked with a little sniff of a laugh and a smirk. “I mean, my favorite color is red, so I very much enjoy the guest room you put me in. The turkey last night reminded me of childhood adventures with my brother, which I’m sure Damien mentioned in passing.”

“He did mention something about that this morning,” the Queen said, smiling. “About how the two of you traded places as children. I think it’s rather charming to hear about.”

“You might be the first person to call it charming,” Roman laughed. “But there are plenty more stories where that came from.”

“I can’t wait to hear them all,” the Queen said. “But for today, I’m afraid we might not have much time to talk about that. We need to go over your first dance, after all.”

“Oh, right,” Roman said. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the thought of getting married. The thought of slow-dancing with Damien seemed even more foreign. “I mean, I can barely do a passable waltz, which may be a problem...”

“Not to worry, I’m sure Logan would be willing to teach you. He’s a man of many talents. It’s one of the reasons Damien chose him to be his advisor.”

“Huh,” Roman said, taking a sip of his tea. “The more you know.”

“Indeed,” the Queen said, and when she smiled, Roman saw where Damien got a majority of his grin from.

“So, as for music,” Roman’s mother said. “What are we thinking? It has to be something Veronica can be able to dance to, but I think it should also be sweet. Something that really seals the idea of love.”

“Damien suggested a song to me earlier when we were talking. It was the reason he came looking for me. It was by this band...Sleeping at Last, I think? And they did a remake of the song  _ I’m Gonna Be. _ The five hundred miles song. I haven’t listened to it, yet. I was hoping we could listen to it together.”

“Excellent idea, Rose,” Roman’s mother said. “Veronica, you can pull it up on your phone, can’t you?”

When Roman had his phone offered to him, he practically snatched it out of his mother’s hands as he looked up the song. “He said he thought of you with this song, Veronica,” the Queen said. “He hoped he wasn’t being too forward when he chose this, but he said he thought it really was what he needed to say to you.”

Roman’s heart thudded in his chest when he heard that. He knew the song, but he had never heard the version the Queen was talking about. Still...Damien doing those sorts of things for Roman, it had Roman’s heart beating hard and fast. Someone being chivalrous to him,  _ as him, _ and not as Veronica, made him feel weak at the knees.

The first notes of the song hit the air around them, and Roman instantly knew this would be a romantic version of the song, but then the singer came in, and he had to fight back tears. They sang so earnestly and with so much heart in the song that Roman wouldn’t believe anyone who told him that the singer didn’t have someone in mind when they sang it. “I love it,” he said, voice thick with tears. “This is perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so,” the Queen said with a knowing smile. “Damien puts thought into every song he recommends for any occasion. It looks like he got this one perfectly.”

Roman nodded, locking his phone as the song ended, and slipped it into the pocket he had secretly sewn into this skirt when his mother first got it for him. She never liked that he altered any outfit she got him, but he would claim he needed at least one pocket and his mother would drop the subject, knowing that Roman would argue for his right for pockets until he was blue in the face. Roman took a breath and sipped his tea, trying to get rid of the tears that threatened to overflow and make him start crying.

As breakfast continued, Roman ignored every time his mother said “Veronica” in favor of thinking about Damien calling him Roman. A man who truly cared about him, using his name. It almost made the whole thing bearable.

His mother kept going on about the kind of dress Roman might be wearing at the wedding, and Roman noticed even the Queen looked somewhat uncomfortable by this point. “I do wish the tailor would have let me see his designs,” his mother sighed. “I tried to talk to him last night as he was leaving, but he said nothing.”

“Remy doesn’t like sharing sketches of his ideas, because what he does might change radically from the sketch to what the final result is,” the Queen said. “He doesn’t want anyone to get attached to an idea he realizes no longer works.”

His mother seemed somewhat appeased, but she still sighed. “I would have liked to be there, regardless. I do want to be present for the first fitting.”

Roman’s eyes flicked over to the Queen in a panic. The Queen hummed. “I don’t know, Diana. Remy doesn’t like too many people hovering around him.”

“I’ll stay out of the way,” Roman’s mother insisted.

“Actually, Mother,” Roman said. “I had talked to Remy last night about a possible surprise about the dress. A surprise specifically designed for you and Father, and I don’t want to ruin it by showing you before the wedding day.”

His mother sent him a searching stare. “And this surprise isn’t risqué? You’re not making the dress provocative or otherwise unacceptable?”

“Of course not, you know I hate when I wear anything that shows off my body like that,” Roman said, shaking his head. “We were actually discussing...” He forced back a shudder. “We were talking about designs in the lace he considered using. Among other things.”

His mother’s eyes lit up. “You’re considering the lace after all?”

“Remy knows ways to make it less scratchy than what I’ve dealt with in the past,” Roman lied. “And if what he designs is more comfortable than what I’ve worn in the past, then I will be more than happy to wear it.”

His mother hugged him, and Roman allowed his discomfort to show on his face just as long as his mother couldn’t see him. The Queen winced in sympathy. When his mother pulled away, he reset back to his neutral face and let his mother grin at him. “I knew you would see sense, Veronica!” she exclaimed.

“I don’t know how wearing lace would be me ‘seeing sense,’” Roman said with a shrug. “But if it makes you happy...”

As his mother took over the conversation, once again gushing about her excitement for the wedding, Roman slowly retreated in on himself until he was practically huddled in the chair he was using. He wanted to be anywhere but here. He’d settle for some place in the castle that his mother wasn’t, at this point. He just wanted to leave.  _ Now. _ Roman stood, clearing his throat. “I’m afraid I need to use the restroom, as exciting as this conversation is,” he said.

“Oh, that’s quite all right, dear, I was about to suggest we head to the ballroom and send someone to fetch Damien so the two of you could practice your first dance,” the Queen said. “The bathroom is right down the hall, and anyone in the castle can tell you where the ballroom is if you get lost.”

Roman nodded and left quickly, rushing through the halls and finding refuge in the bathroom as he took a shaky breath and gripped the counter with white knuckles. “You can get through it, Roman,” he breathed, staring at himself in the mirror. He hated the long brown hair he was forced to sport, now falling into his face, but he reminded himself he would be getting it cut the day of the wedding. “Damien even said you could get through it. It’ll hurt like hell, but if he thinks you can do it, and Remus thinks you can do it, and even the  _ tailor _ thinks you can do it, then no matter what doubts you have, you can get through this. It doesn’t have to be unscathed. That’s what therapy later down the road is for.” He started to laugh slightly hysterically at that. “You just have to get through it. Reach the finish line. Everything that comes after that is after that. Not something you have to worry about now.”

Leaning back to assess himself in the mirror, Roman splashed some water on his face and took a deep breath, leaving the room and heading in the direction he assumed the ballroom was.

Eventually, he was rewarded with the entrance to a rather large room, with that horrendous bright yellow covering the walls. Damien was standing there, waiting for him. “Good morning, my dear,” Damien said. “I managed to convince our mothers to step away for a moment, so that we can talk alone, and get the awkwardness out of the way without them.”

Roman offered a smile and nodded. “Sounds good,” he said.

Logan approached the two of them from somewhere that Roman couldn’t see, and said, “Shall we get the positioning done?”

Damien nodded with a small smile and Roman offered a nervous grin. “I apologize in advance for crushing your toes,” he told Damien.

“No matter, my dear,” Damien said. “Did you listen to the song I told my mother about?”

“I did, and I think it’s perfect,” Roman said, genuinely smiling. “Honestly, the thought that anyone would do something like that for me is almost unbelievable, but if you think it applies...well, I’m certainly not going to say no to such a beautiful song.”

Damien offered Roman a grin. “Perfect,” he said. “I was hoping you would enjoy it. Logan will take us through the steps of a waltz, and once you think you have it down, we can practice with the music.”

“First, you two need to get your hands in the right positions,” Logan said.

“I know this part, at least,” Roman breathed, taking Damien’s left hand in his right, and putting his other hand on Damien’s shoulder, and Damien got in position as well.

“All right. Now, let’s take the first step. Damien, you’ll lead. That means you take a left step forward, and Roman takes a right step back.”

They did so, and all the while Roman’s heart was thudding in his chest. He  _ really _ didn’t want to trip Damien up.

“Very good. Now, Damien, you’ll take your right foot and move it forward in a diagonal, and Roman, you take your left and move back in the same manner,” Logan instructed.

And no sooner did they try it than Roman accidentally kicked Damien in the shins. Damien winced. “Gah, I’m so sorry!” Roman exclaimed.

“It’s not a problem, my dear, let’s keep going,” Damien said.

“This next part should be easy, you bring your feet back together. Roman, this will be your right, and Damien, your left.”

Roman nodded and together, they made the step. Roman giggled nervously.

“Now, we will repeat these same three steps in reverse,” Logan said. “And try not to kick anyone in the process.”

Roman stuck his tongue out at Logan, but looking down at his feet, he managed to not kick Damien in the shins again. “All right, that will be the bulk of the dance,” Logan said, walking over and forcing Roman’s chin up. “But you can’t look at your feet as you dance, Roman.”

“That’s going to be hard, and result in a lot of kicking,” Roman said, turning red in embarrassment.

“Be that as it may, you cannot stare at your feet for the duration of the dance, so try to keep your head up as you practice. Now let’s try again,” Logan said.


	9. Chapter 9

They continued to practice, Roman intermittently kicking Damien, or stepping on his toes from using the wrong foot. Every time, Roman would apologize, and every time, Damien would wave away the apology. And with time, Roman improved. Damien started cracking jokes and making Roman laugh, and he focused on where he was stepping less, and focused on Damien more. In twenty minutes, he had learned the basic box step, and he wasn’t kicking anyone on accident anymore.

“Now that you know the box step, it’s time to learn the turn,” Logan said. “It’s not that difficult. Every time you take a step, you move your feet at a quarter of an angle to what you had been doing before. At the end two boxes, you should be facing the same way you are now. Ready to try?”

“No,” Roman said, staring up at Damien anyway.

Damien smiled reassuringly, and they tried the steps, painstakingly slow. Roman nearly rolled his ankle from turning a bit too much on one of the steps, but after a few tries, Roman was able to turn without hurting himself. Not hurting Damien was a little trickier, but he was avoiding kicking more and more.

“I think we should try the progression,” Logan said. “What that is would be essentially stretching the box you two are using, so that you move forward, or backward, across the dance floor instead of simply staying in the same place.”

“Joy,” Roman said.

“It will be all right, Roman,” Damien murmured. “You’ve done wonderfully so far.”

Roman swallowed and nodded, and they tried it. Damien had to get adjusted to Roman’s shorter legs, and he stepped on Roman’s toes a couple times in revenge as he got a handle on the adjustment.

They made a whole rotation around the ballroom and Logan clapped. “Excellent, both of you. Now, you will have to practice to make sure you can do this without looking at your feet, but if you can dance for the entire song without an error, I will conclude today’s lesson.”

Logan started playing  _ the _ song on his phone, and Damien moved Roman across the dance floor. Roman kept on having to resist the urge to look at his feet. But when Damien started singing along to the song, Roman was transfixed. His voice sounded positively angelic, smooth as honey and he sang with just as much heart as the singer on the video.

Roman was still trying to get over the fact that Damien was singing to him...singing a song about true love, when the chorus started. And it was in that moment Roman knew that he loved Damien. The affection was so strong, he was surprised his heart didn’t burst. Tears sprang to Roman’s eyes, and Roman couldn’t cover the smile that was forming on his face.

Damien smiled just as wide as Roman did as he continued to sing, and they danced their way around the ballroom, Roman not having to look down once, all doubts about his dancing ability fading away as he focused solely on Damien. When the song ended, Roman was actually disappointed that he wouldn’t get to continue dancing. He heard clapping from the doorway to the ballroom, and he saw their mothers standing there, both of them beaming.

Roman turned red but Damien just laughed good-naturedly. “How long have you been standing there?” he asked, a gleam in his eye.

“Long enough to know that you can cure anyone from having two left feet,” the Queen said. “And that those singing classes you took in school didn’t go to waste.”

Roman let his hands drop from Damien’s, feeling disappointed in doing so. When the fluttering in his heart didn’t stop when he saw Damien laugh at the Queen, Roman was surprised. Usually, he could feel bursts of love for someone and they would fade away as the moment that caused the feeling passed. But this feeling remained. He was shocked. Did this mean...that he  _ actually _ loved Damien? More than having a cute guy being chivalrous to him; did he actually  _ love _ the man in question, and not just the actions? He took a shaky breath. What did that mean for him?

“Veronica, I trust you won’t stop practicing after this one time, thinking that you can waltz without issue from now on. Practice is what makes perfect,” Roman’s mother lectured.

“If you want, Your Majesty, I could continue dancing with Veronica for the rest of the morning,” Damien said, wrapping a hand around Roman’s waist, and Roman felt electricity shooting through him at the action.

“No, the two of you have much more to do than simply dance,” his mother said. “You both have more of the wedding to plan out for the rest of the morning, seeing as how one of you has meetings later today.”

Damien sighed. “Yes, I tried to ask my father if I could get out of the meetings, but he refused. I was hoping to spend some more time just...relaxing, and getting to know the two of you better, but a nation never rests.”

Roman felt disappointment settle in his stomach. He wanted to continue dancing, at least a little bit, just to hear a little more of Damien’s voice. But the infernal wedding was getting in the way. “What needs to be done this morning?” Roman asked.

“We need to finalize seating for the guests,” the Queen said. “Naturally, some people aren’t the most...receptive to others who will be here, and we need to make sure no one gets into a fight with someone else because they were sitting next to each other.”

Roman nodded. “Makes sense,” he said. He was still eternally thankful that he had wriggled out of getting bridesmaids and a Maid of Honor. He honestly would not have been able to handle that, but since the wedding was on such short notice, he didn’t have the time to pick out people who he could tolerate standing next to him at his wedding. “We wouldn’t want a war breaking out before the reception.”

“We might just get one yet,” his mother pointed out. “If you don’t tell people why you didn’t pick them as bridesmaids.”

“I think most people will understand, Mother. Especially considering the short notice,” Roman sighed. “We talked about this before.”

Damien snorted. “Truth be told, Your Majesty, I had no idea who I would make my Best Man if we were having an entire wedding party.” He offered Roman’s mother a fake smile that rivalled one of her own. “I think Veronica was very pragmatic in that decision.”

“Aw, thank you,” Roman said, looking up at him and offering him a grin. “I’m glad that someone else sees the reasoning behind my decisions.”

“Well, we  _ are _ getting married,” Damien pointed out. “Perhaps there’s a reason we just...click?”

“Other than the fact that we’re both very attractive and want to please the other?” Roman asked with a teasing grin.

“Yes, other than that,” Damien said with a slight blush. Apparently being called attractive flustered him. Interesting.

The Queen offered Roman an amused smile. “We should probably get going and figure that out, however difficult it may be to leave this room. I know it’s rather nice in here, but we can’t bring the entire guest list over when there are more than one hundred people invitations have been sent to. And we have to find places for every last one of them.”

Roman could feel his blood pressure rising. “Damien,” he said, turning. “If you so much as even  _ think _ about shirking out of this and leaving the three of us to plan this on our own, I will make your life a living hell.”

Roman’s mother gasped but Damien just laughed, vowing, “I would never dream of it, my dear.”

The two of them left the room at their mothers’ insistence, but they stayed close together as they walked through the halls. Roman kept on feeling his heart flutter whenever Damien’s hand brushed against his, and Roman knew he had contracted the love bug badly. His mother wasn’t making things any easier, either, giving him glares for using an alleged swear word. “So, do you know who’s being invited to our little...social engagement?” Damien asked Roman.

“Social  _ engagement, _ hm?” Roman asked with a wicked grin.

“No, I am not doing this with you too,” Damien said. “I get enough puns from Patton!”

“Ah, but you’re the one who said it!” Roman exclaimed. “I just pointed it out and gave it the recognition it deserved!”

Damien gave Roman a half-hearted scowl and Roman just giggled. He knew that the love bug was going to make his life agony for a while, so he may as well enjoy the moment now, when it wasn’t as prevalent. “I don’t know everyone who’s being invited, but I know the majority of my extended family has agreed to come, as well as several people who either advise my father or work with him in some other fashion, and I know that Remus has a few people like that as well.”

Damien nodded. “I anticipate it’s much the same on my end,” Damien said. “I don’t know for certain. Truth be told...I was avoiding gaining information about this whole occasion for a while because I was terrified of it becoming real.”

“Has it? Become real?” Roman asked.

“It has,” Damien said. “But I think that I have also grown to appreciate it, and I have a certain excitement surrounding the occasion.”

“Why do you think that is?” Roman asked, glancing at Damien.

Damien brushed some hair out of Roman’s face gently and Roman nearly fainted. “Well, marrying someone as lovely as you certainly has something to do with it.”

“Oh,” Roman said softly, not knowing what else to say.

Damien offered Roman a smile and Roman smiled nervously back. “I don’t know what to do when pretty boys flirt with me,” he blurted, laughing.

“Neither do I,” Damien whispered into Roman’s ear.

Roman laughed harder, clapping a hand over his mouth. He sucked in air and turned with a scowl to Damien. “Come on, that’s mean!” he objected.

“I’ll stop if you will,” Damien offered.

Roman considered. “No,” he said. “I like being sarcastic too much. But you’re allowed to complain, as am I.”

“I can work with that,” Damien agreed.

They got to the room where the list of guests resided, which was conveniently located by the kitchen, no doubt so they could work through lunch if they had to. Roman and Damien sat down next to each other on one side of the table, and their mothers sat on the opposite side. Roman arched his eyebrows at the rows upon rows that the cathedral they were using had on a diagram placed on the table, and the long list of people who were expected to come. “This is going to take a while, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Sadly,” Damien agreed. “But if we finish it today, we might be able to do something together tomorrow that doesn’t involve wedding  _ planning. _ You seemed to enjoy dance practice.”

“Dancing is fun when you’re not kicking your partner in the shins,” Roman said with a shrug.

“I agree,” Damien said. “Perhaps we can dance again tomorrow, should we have the time.”

“I’d like that,” Roman agreed, smiling.

They turned back to the list and Roman’s smile dimmed. “Okay. Easy ones first. Close family should be in the first row of each pew.”

“Agreed,” Damien said. “Less close individuals who are still family can sit in the second and third rows.”

“Dignitaries who hold high rankings of power should be in the fourth and fifth. Is it bad to want to banish children to the back rows?”

Damien laughed. “Only if you use the word ‘banish,’” he informed Roman. “But I think we should figure out which dignitaries wouldn’t throttle each other if they sit next to each other, first.”

Roman sighed. “You’re right, and I hate that you’re right.”

Damien offered Roman a small commiserating smile, and he looked at the list of dignitaries who were to be invited. “I know that Charles doesn’t like Nancy whatsoever, we should probably keep those two as far apart as possible.”

Roman looked over the names, half of them recognizable and another half with no idea as to their identities. “I know Mira gets along well with most people, so she shouldn’t be too hard to place. We can probably save her for later once we’ve eliminated some of the troublemakers.”

“Hm...Timothy is the same,” Damien mused. “Isabelle might not like someone but she is unlikely to start a fight over it, so we can probably place her later as well...”

They went through their lists slowly, sorting people into groups where they needed to be careful with placement, and where the guests could sit wherever they pleased, setting up seats for each of them. Once that was done, Roman’s stomach had started to snarl and he groaned, stretching one arm across the table while resting his head on the other one. “I’m starving,” he complained. “I can’t think on an empty stomach.”

Damien pulled out his phone and tutted at the screen. “I have to go to meetings in an hour.”

“Don’t leave me here,” Roman whined. “Hungry  _ and _ alone is just cruel!”

Damien pat Roman’s arm and offered, “We could have lunch? Just the two of us?”

Roman pulled himself up until he was resting on his elbows. “You mean that?”

Damien tilted his head downward once. “There’s still much about you I’d love to learn, my dear.”

Roman sat up fully. “I wouldn’t object to having lunch just the two of us.”

Damien stood and offered Roman a hand. “Well, then we’d better make the most of the time we have.”

Roman took his hand with a smile. “You two must better behave,” Roman’s mother warned. “No food fights, understand?”

“Your Majesty,” Damien said, turning to look at Roman’s mother. “I would never dream of it. And I’m sure you and my mother have some things you’d rather speak about without us present, I would think that now would be the perfect time to have those conversations.”

Roman’s mother didn’t say anything else and Damien led Roman into the kitchen, calling, “Patton! I’m going to use the stove and nothing you can do will stop me!”

For a second, there was no noise in the kitchen. Then, there was the sound of rushing footsteps and Patton burst through a side door, yelling, “Your Highness, don’t you  _ dare _ touch the stovetop!”

Roman cackled. “Are you about as good a cook as you are an artist?” he asked Damien.

“I burned pasta  _ one _ time!” Damien protested. “Honestly, Patton, I haven’t made a mistake since! Why monitor me so closely in the kitchen?”

“Because the one time you burned the pasta was the one time I wasn’t watching you,” Patton gasped. “I’ll let you make food within reason, but tell me what you want to make so I don’t question you every step of the way.”

Damien rolled his eyes. “I was just going to make grilled cheese.”

“Ooh, that sounds nice,” Roman said, rubbing his hands together. “Any chance we could make tomato soup with it?”

“So long as we have the supplies to make it quickly?” Damien looked to Patton.

“Uh, might take half an hour to prepare,” he said apologetically. “We don’t have any of the canned stuff stocked up at the moment.”

“Do you have ketchup, in that case?” Roman asked.

“We do,” Patton said.

Damien stared at Roman. “You...put  _ ketchup _ on your grilled cheese?!”

“If there’s no tomato soup, I tend to dip grilled cheese in ketchup, yeah,” Roman said with a shrug. “Why?”

“That sounds...absolutely disgusting,” Damien said.

“Oh come on,” Roman said. “Some people put it in the sandwich when they grill it, all I do is dip! Which is worse, hot ketchup or room-temperature?”

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation,” Damien muttered to himself. “This is by far the worst conversation I have ever had.”

“Hey! Damien!” Roman protested. “It’s not that weird! And it tastes amazing!”

Patton snickered as he moved around the kitchen, grabbing a pan and butter and bread and cheese. “While your fiancé has an existential crisis, I’ll make the both of you the grilled cheese, sound  _ gouda?” _

Roman gave Patton a laugh and a thumbs-up. Patton got to work and Roman led Damien to one of the counters that had two stools underneath it. He guided Damien onto one and then sat on the other himself, looking Damien over. He wasn’t exactly frozen in place, but he was definitely perturbed and his mouth was moving, though his words were inaudible. His fingers were twitching, and he didn’t respond to Roman staring at him, until Patton gave them two plates with a grilled cheese each and put them down a little harder than necessary to capture their attention. Damien jumped and Patton gave Roman a bottle of ketchup. “Enjoy the sandwiches,” Patton said. “And Damien,  _ please _ try and stay in this dimension a while longer? Your fiancé could probably use a little company.”

Damien turned pink and Roman just laughed as he squirted ketchup onto his plate. “I argue that any respectful company is good company, so it doesn’t have to be Damien who engages me in conversation,” Roman said, looking at Patton. “Would you want to stay and chat for a while?”

“Sure,” Patton said, grabbing a stool and sitting across from Patton and Damien at the counter.

Damien sighed. “You know, Roman, if you didn’t have such an odd choice in food-and I use the word food very,  _ very _ loosely-I would argue you would be an ideal candidate for any suitor or suitress you’d happen to find.”

Roman paused right before he dipped his grilled cheese in ketchup. “Wait. Did I not tell you?”

“Not tell me...what?” Damien asked. “Because we have the whole transgender part of your identity sorted.”

“But did I tell you my orientation?” Roman asked.

“...No,” Damien said after a moment of thought. “I don’t believe so.”

“I’m gay,” Roman said, with a slightly hysterical laugh. “I’m a transgender gay man.”

“Oh,” Damien said. “So we can drool over men we find attractive together, got it.”

Roman snorted, and Patton giggled at them. “You two already seem so relaxed together,” he noted. “You may as well have known each other your whole lives.”

Damien shrugged. “Well, Roman is remarkably good company,” he said.

“Shut up,” Roman mumbled, cheeks heating up. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

Damien offered Roman a toothy grin at that, and Roman resisted the urge to blush harder. Instead, he elected to dip his grilled cheese into the awaiting ketchup and took a bite, humming. “Patton, this grilled cheese is amazing.”

“I still say that dipping it in ketchup is disgusting,” Damien protested.

“Have you ever  _ tried _ it dipped in ketchup?” Roman asked.

“Do I have to?” Damien asked, wrinkling his nose.

“If you want a stance on this subject, yes,” Roman said, taking a slice of Damien’s grilled cheese and dipping a corner in ketchup before offering it to Damien.

Damien looked disgusted but took the sandwich and bit off the corner covered in ketchup. He frowned, chewing it slowly, before swallowing. Roman waited with baited breath for Damien’s verdict. “That’s not half bad, actually.”

“Yes!” Roman cheered, throwing a fist into the air. “I  _ knew _ you’d like it if only you tried it! I was right!”

“Shut up and pass me the ketchup bottle,” Damien grumbled, hand out.

Roman obliged and the three slowly but surely started up conversation.


	10. Chapter 10

“So, have you two decided on what you might want served at the wedding?” Patton asked.

“Uh...” Roman looked over at Damien only to find him turning red as he ate. “Not yet, Patton, sorry.”

“Oh, it’s no worries, I know the both of you were hesitant about this whole thing, and after all, the food doesn’t get made until the day of, save for the cake depending on difficulty, and you already have so much to plan. I don’t hold it against you,” Patton said cheerily.

“You’re awfully forgiving,” Roman laughed. “I gave my mother some half-baked ideas about what I might like because she refused to stop pestering me, and she said that I ‘couldn’t put this off forever’ in that patronizing voice I absolutely hate.”

Damien hummed his disapproval. “I don’t like your mother,” he said. “Especially after last night when she tried to convince me that you were pretending to be transgender for a prank. And that whole ‘treat you like the princess you are’ thing? I thought I might throw up. It was actually and truly disgusting.”

“Glad I’m not the only one who feels that way,” Roman said. “It reminds me that everyone looking at me by first glance will see a princess, not a prince. I am well and truly a prisoner of my own body, and my mind can’t be set free.”

“Well, the least we can do is spruce up those prison walls, hm?” Damien asked. “Make your body match your mind a little more. It may not be perfect, but it is a start.”

Roman sighed and propped his head up with one of his hands, even as he used the other to continue dipping his grilled cheese in ketchup. “It feels like it’s going to be an age before that happens.”

“I know it does,” Damien said, placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder. “But hopefully you can find things to pass the time when I am not around and your mother doesn’t require you. I’m assuming you got your phone back?”

“Yeah,” Roman said, sighing. “But if I get caught talking to any of my friends, I’m dead.”

“Would the same be true if you talked to your brother?” Damien asked. “Because the way you talk about him, you might be able to call.”

“He’ll be in meetings all the time, I won’t be able to call,” Roman sighed. “But I just might be able to text.”

“I would advise you to text him whenever you need and can get away with it,” Damien said. “Someone to help affirm your identity is always a good thing, and I can’t be around all the time, much as I would like to be.”

Roman sighed. “I know,” he said, pulling out his phone and playing with it. “I don’t know how much time we’ll have to text each other, but I can try and talk to him when I can.”

“Why don’t you send him a quick text now, letting him know that you want to text when you can?” Damien proposed. “Open the line of communication when you  _ know _ you can.”

Roman nodded and unlocked his phone. “Yeah, I’ll shoot him a line.”

Figuring out what to type wasn’t easy. Their parents couldn’t monitor their texts because Roman and Remus never went  _ anywhere _ without their phones, but how did Roman sum up what was going on here?  _ hey loser, guess who? mom gave me back my phone, and i want to talk to you when i can, you up for that? _ He sent the text and stared at the screen a few seconds hopefully, before turning off his phone with a sigh. “He probably won’t see that for another hour at least.”

“But at least he’ll see it,” Damien said, rubbing Roman’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s a real good thing the two of you get to talk!” Patton said. “Even if you have to be careful with what you say, talking is always good.”

Roman’s phone chirped with a text alert and he opened his phone at lightning speed, laughing when he saw what Remus had responded with.  _ oh thank god you’re alive! i was really starting to worry, ro. i let our friends know that you were going off the grid for a bit so you don’t have to worry about them worrying. pls talk to me about what’s going on. and...pls tell me that you’re not mad. i’m super super sorry _

Roman smiled and typed back,  _ i’m currently with future husband and we’re having lunch. everything is such a long story, i don’t know where to start. but don’t worry, i would never ever EVER be mad at you for an accident _

“I take it he’s doing well?” Damien asked.

“He hasn’t said he’s dying, so that’s promising,” Roman said drily. “Currently he’s apologizing for accidentally outing me.”

“Oh, is that what happened?” Patton asked. “I thought you might have told your folks yourself and they just took it poorly.”

“Well, Remus called me ‘Roman’ in front of them and I had to explain, so it was a combination of both,” Roman said. “Regardless, my parents didn’t take it well.”

Patton scowled. “I don’t like them,” he declared.

“I don’t know anyone who does,” Damien said with a wry smile. He checked his own phone and sighed. “Father will want me to be at the meeting within the next ten minutes, I’m afraid I have to go.”

Roman felt his stomach sink. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, if I’m not there Father will send Virgil after me, and no one wants that,” Damien said, pulling a face. “But at least we placed everyone in the wedding, so you don’t have to do that on your own. I imagine you’ll be wrapped into looking at flowers, or ribbons, or some other decoration around the chapel that really doesn’t matter to either of us but everyone else insists is important.”

“Well, we’re both men, and men stereotypically don’t care about this sort of thing,” Roman said with a shrug. “I will try and see if we can get good colors for everything based on the chapel’s walls, though.”

“Well, keep in mind that the walls are a pale, cool blue. Almost slate colored,” Damien said. “If you need to see it in person someone can show you.”

“Okay,” Roman said reluctantly. “Find me whenever the meetings are done?”

Damien looked pained. “My dear, these meetings typically go until dinner.”

“On the off chance you finish early, please,” Roman almost begged, grabbing Damien’s hand as he stood up. “I don’t want to feel so alone.”

Damien nodded. “I will do my best, Roman.”

Roman nodded and let him go. Patton sighed from across the table and said, “Everything’s been really rough, hasn’t it?”

A groan was Roman’s only answer.

“Do you want me to hide you away for a bit so you can talk to your brother more?” Patton offered.

“Much as I appreciate it, Patton, that would probably just land me in more trouble,” Roman sighed. “I’ll respond to his texts when I can, and he’ll do the same for me.”

As if on cue, Roman’s phone chirped again.  _ fh treating you right? i’ll kill him if he makes you cry _

Roman smiled.  _ fh is nothing but a perfect gentleman, re. relax _

Patton put his hand over one of Roman’s. “If you ever need anything, at all, don’t hesitate to ask, all right?” Patton said. “I’ll be more than happy to help.”

“I know. Thank you,” Roman said, standing up and leaving the kitchen with a sigh, heading back to the room where his mother and the Queen were.

“Oh, Veronica, I was just about to go looking for you!” his mother said brightly. “We need to talk about decorations.”

Roman was torn between cringing and laughing. “What specifically about decorations do we need to discuss?”

“Well, there’s the flower arrangement for the bouquet, and then we should look at the chapel itself and see what else is necessary. Rose says that the walls are somewhat plain, and I think it would be nice if we could cover them with something special for the occasion.”

Roman blew some of his hair out of his face and sighed. “Well, I could always paint a thing or two to pin on the walls for the wedding,” he offered, voice somewhat lackluster. “But the chapel is pretty big, if we can invite all these people. I doubt I could cover every instance of wall between or under windows with paintings.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t ask that of you,” the Queen laughed. “I was hoping to use flowers to cover the walls. And warn people ahead of time that if they have allergies, they might want to use antihistamines in advance.”

Roman wracked his brain for what he remembered about flowers from talking to the gardeners. “I like the thought of daffodils,” he offered. If he remembered correctly, daffodils symbolized change, and hope. He thought that definitely applied, and his mother would never be the wiser about the meaning.

“Convenient, considering the crest of our kingdom is dark grey and golden yellow,” the Queen said with a smile. “Why don’t we pick out some red flowers to represent your family’s crest, and then work from there?”

“Peonies are also around this time of year, aren’t they?” Roman’s mother asked. “They’re fairly popular for weddings.”

“All right, daffodils and peonies will be on the walls, and in the bouquet, if you like that, Veronica?” the Queen asked.

“Yeah, that works,” Roman said, sitting down with a sigh.

“I have a proposal for flowers that we can decorate the pews with,” the Queen said.

“Hm?” Roman hummed.

“Hydrangeas,” the Queen said with a smile. “Blue, pink, and white. All soft colors, and I think they would be perfect.”

Roman inwardly perked up at that.  _ The trans pride colors, _ he thought with a smile.  _ That’s considerate. _ “I do like that idea,” he said with a small smile.

His mother was about to say something but her phone rang and she sighed. “Excuse me, this would be my husband,” she said, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her, but not before Roman heard his mom snap, “I was just talking to Veronica, what do you want?!”

Roman winced and the Queen sighed. “I am truly sorry for your mother’s behavior and the toll it’s taking on you, Roman,” she murmured. “You shouldn’t have to be put through this.”

Roman offered her a weak smile. “Well, out of all the guys I could be married to, Damien isn’t half bad.”

The Queen laughed. “He’s a handful, however. You will of course have help around the castle if he gets too out of hand, but he is a lot to take in.”

“I know,” Roman said. “The more he loosens up the more...intense he seems to be. That paint fight we had...the whole experience was made that much more enjoyable, and tiring, because it was Damien who I was fighting against.”

“I suppose intense is a good word for him,” the Queen said. “He can only look and act like the perfect gentleman for so long before he has to be human again. And he likes to make the most of when he’s allowed to just be human.”

Roman nodded and his phone pinged. He jumped. “Sorry, that’s probably Remus,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Do you mind if I answer him?”

“Go ahead,” the Queen said. “Before your mother comes in and can interrogate you on who you’re talking to.”

_ define perfect gentleman _ was the only thing in the text.

Roman stifled giggles as he typed,  _ we got in a paint fight and he took all the blame, just because he knew i would get hell from mom. he’s fine, re _

His phone pinged again within seconds.  _ i’ll believe that when i see it. dad’s starting the meeting, gotta go. love you lots, brother, don’t ever forget <3 _

_ i won’t <3 _ Roman promised, putting his phone down and locking it.

“Anything interesting?” the Queen asked.

“He was asking about Damien, and if I’m being treated all right, here,” Roman said. “Which of course I responded that Damien’s been wonderful and that I’m as fine as I can be.”

The Queen offered Roman a sad smile just as his mother walked back in the room. “Sorry, my husband wanted a quick update before he started his next meeting,” his mother said. “I told him everything was fine. I hope that’s still the case?”

“We were just talking about Remus, because Her Majesty wanted to hear more about him,” Roman said, nodding to the Queen. “Nothing scandalous went down while you were gone, Mother.”

“I don’t know of anything that could be scandalous and occur in two minutes,” the Queen laughed. She stood. “Some of the women in the family were hoping to meet you, Veronica, if that’s all right with you? They will probably keep you for most of the afternoon one way or another, I’m afraid.”

“Would I be allowed a sketchbook and pencils?” Roman asked. “In case I want to draw during any lulls in conversation?”

“Of course,” the Queen said. “I do believe you have those supplies in your room?”

Roman nodded.

“Then go on and grab them, dear, and we’ll see you in the main day room. You spoke to myself and my husband there yesterday after lunch.”

“Oh, yeah, I know where that is,” Roman said.

“You spoke after lunch?” his mother asked suspiciously.

“Just apologizing for having to run out. I’m afraid my nerves made me rather sick,” Roman lied.

His mother nodded, but continued to scrutinize him. The Queen cleared her throat. “Come on, Diana, they’re all very eager to talk to you as well.”

With a barely audible sigh, his mother followed the Queen out of the room. Roman walked down the halls away from them, back to his room. He knew that he couldn’t get out of the bulk of this socializing, but he was going to try and drag it out as long as possible.

His thoughts went out to Remus. When he texted, he seemed impossibly nervous, and he seemed  _ scared _ that Roman would be mad at him, if Roman read the text correctly. Which, of course Roman had been mad at first. When he had been confined to his room for several days as this wedding plan came into play, he was downright furious. Only able to sneak quick messages on his computer to his friends before his parents would come in and check on him, or have guards checking in, to make sure he wasn’t talking with those friends. Eventually not even having that, as his parents confiscated his laptop and phone. Having books to read, and sketches to finish, but nothing else to do while he waited for his meals. He cursed Remus repeatedly in his head for that, throughout all those days.

But eventually, the cursing became less from anger at being outed, and more at the general loneliness that Roman was plagued with from virtually no human contact from the outside world, whatsoever. And by the end, when Roman’s mother dragged him out of the house before the break of dawn yesterday, he  _ missed _ Remus, and wasn’t angry at him whatsoever anymore. Accidents happened. It wasn’t Remus’ fault that their parents had reacted the way they had. That was entirely on his parents. No one else.

He walked past the mudroom that lead to the back of the castle. Roman briefly entertained the idea of throwing his mother off the cliff, but he would most likely be caught, and his father would have him charged with treason, being a child of his or not. So that was a bust. He instead continued to walk up the stairs, and down the hall to his guest room. Once he was inside, he took a brief moment to take a deep breath, and let the soul-crushing depression and anxiety settle over him. Then he lifted his head, took another breath, and forced that aside. This was just a role he had to play for a week. A week of theatre. He wasn’t going to be Veronica, he never  _ was _ Veronica in the first place. He was Roman Augustus Ayer, and he would not be stopped.

A quick search of his suitcase and he located his sketchbook and pencils and left the room. He wasn’t in a hurry to get to the day room, but he was aware that he couldn’t drag his feet without his mother making a snide remark about timeliness, so he walked with his head up, his shoulders squared, and his face set with determination. He could do this. He was more than capable of doing this.

He could hear the women laughing and talking from here, and his footsteps slowed. He didn’t want them to know he was there, not just yet. He couldn’t make out their conversation, but he wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. He took a couple more steadying breaths, in and out, in and out. He could do this, he could do this. It would hurt like hell but he could do this. He was more than capable of playing a role for a week around a scrutinizing audience.

Rolling his head on his shoulders, he took one last steadying breath, and muttered, “Showtime,” under his breath. He plastered a fake polite smile on his face, and took the final steps he needed to get to the day room. “Hi, everyone, sorry for being a little behind!” he chirped.


	11. Chapter 11

The women from the Queen’s family were exceptionally nice. Barbara had a couple kids who were apparently being looked after by a couple of the guards while they were here. Helen was single, but she didn’t seem troubled by that one bit and sat observing everything and everyone with a mysterious smile on her face. Then there was Jemma, who was apparently a lesbian and looking for a partner, but she had so far had no success.

“I mean, it’s just so unfair that all the cute ones are straight,” Jemma said to Roman in quiet tones as the other women talked around them.

“Tell me about it,” Roman sighed. “It seems like everyone I’ve ever liked is someone my parents have disapproved of. This marriage seems more like one of convenience and allyship than anything else. I like boys, but...well...” Roman looked around before whispering in Jemma’s ear, “I feel like a boy more often than my mother cares to know about.”

Jemma sent him a searching look. “Genderfluid?” she asked under her breath. “Or just a man?”

“Just a man,” Roman said with a shrug. “Doesn’t matter to my mom any, she still thinks it’s a sin or whatever.”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Ugh, those. I hate those. If I were made Queen, I would outlaw all homophobes and send them into exile.”

“Probably why you’re not Queen,” Roman said with a sneaky grin.

“Probably,” Jemma agreed.

Roman went back to his drawing, a rough sketch of Damien. He tried to reason it was to practice different facial structures, but he wasn’t fooling even himself. He  _ knew _ it was because Damien was persistently on his mind in a romantic fashion. Jemma nudged him quietly and whispered to him, “Did Damien tell you about his little secret about love?”

Turning dark red, Roman nodded. “We’ve discussed it before,” he mumbled. “At least  _ one _ cute one isn’t straight.”

Jemma laughed and Roman offered her a hesitant grin. When the other ladies had looked over at them before continuing their discussion, Jemma murmured, “How true. You got lucky, in that respect. And I know the King and Queen are accepting, for whenever you tell them.”

“Oh, they know,” Roman said, a sly grin on his face. “They’re getting me fit for a suit for the wedding, to send a message to my parents.”

Jemma clamped a hand over her mouth, and she was shaking in her laughter. “Oh, that will be a sight to  _ see!” _ she exclaimed, patting Roman’s shoulder. “I can’t wait for the wedding, I’m absolutely certain it will be brilliant!”

Roman grinned. “I’m pretty sure it won’t be as spectacular as you’re imagining,” he said.

“Oh, but you’ll still do amazing, sweetie,” Jemma said with a wink. “I’m certain of it.”

Roman offered her a nervous laugh and scratched the back of his neck. “I’m not,” he admitted.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve seen these sorts of things work out before, you’d be surprised,” Jemma said sagely.

“Something funny going on over there?” the Queen asked with a smile.

“Just talking about plans for the wedding,” Jemma said with a wave. “Talking about the ways things could go wrong, and reasoning why it will all work out.”

The Queen nodded. “Always a good thing,” she said. “And what conclusions have you come to?”

“That the wedding is probably going to be a glorious disaster,” Roman said with a laugh. “Because we all know that I’m a wreck when nervous.”

“Nothing to be nervous about,” Helen said. “Damien is lovely, and we all know that he will love you unconditionally.”

Roman’s cheeks heated up at that thought. “I don’t know about unconditionally,” Roman laughed. “I could do some pretty bad things without looking where I’m leaping.”

“But if you work together to fix it, that only proves how strong your bond is,” Barbara continued sagely. “Trust me, Veronica. You’ll do fine.”

Roman somehow didn’t flinch at his deadname, didn’t feel the same sting that he usually did. He wasn’t sure if that was a promising sign, or a sign that he was dissociating. Possibly both, if everything felt bad enough. He wouldn’t have to feel all the pain that came next. He fiddled with the pencil in his hands. He wasn’t feeling  _ overwhelmed, _ per se, but all these eyes on him made him uneasy. He let out a sigh. “I hope so,” was all he said, turning back to his sketchbook.

The women all went back to talking, and this time, Jemma spoke with the rest of them. Roman didn’t hear his deadname being used at all, so he could rest easy. But then the Queen said something, and his eyes snapped up to her just a little too quickly to be inconspicuous. “...name was Roman,” the Queen said.

His mother sent him a warning glance when he looked up, but he couldn’t help that he looked over to where his name was being used. He didn’t know any of the context but hearing his name was a breath of fresh air, even if it wasn’t being used for him.

“...And of course, Roman was the adventurous sort, exploring everywhere he could,” the Queen laughed. “He truly was a remarkable man. I miss him to this day.”

The others nodded along. “What happened?” Roman asked Jemma softly.

“Talking about an old school friend,” Jemma said quietly. “You doing okay? You seemed to be elsewhere for a majority of the conversation.”

“I think I’m fine,” Roman said uncertainly. “I just...have a lot to think about.”

“Do you need to lie down?” Jemma said a little louder. “You look a little pale.”

Roman shrugged. “Honestly, I think I’ll be fine,” he said, knowing he would get hell for leaving the room early, sick or not.

“No, honey, go lie down,” the Queen instructed. “It’s better that you rest if you’re feeling unwell. We don’t want you feeling sick on your wedding day.”

“You’re sure?” Roman asked weakly.

“I’ll walk you to your room myself if I have to,” the Queen said. “Please go lie down.”

Roman nodded and gathered up his pencils and sketchbook, saying, “It was lovely to meet you all,” and leaving.

To Roman’s mild surprise, the second he was out of sight of the room his legs went weak and he felt like he was about to pass out. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and taking a couple deep breaths. This wasn’t being sick. He knew what that was like, and this wasn’t it. He felt more like he had just ran a marathon with no chance to stop for water. His head felt like it was filled with cotton, and his ears were ringing, and his whole body was screaming in exhaustion.

Someone was walking up to him slowly, asking...something. Roman couldn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. He tried to place the face of the man, and he knew they had talked before, but he couldn’t. Roman felt his legs crumple as his vision went dark. The man shouted in alarm, just barely catching Roman and placing him propped up against the wall.

Roman was barely conscious for some indeterminable amount of time, during which there was a lot of shouting, and people suddenly swarming the hall. He couldn’t hear anything they were saying, their voices too distorted to pick out any words. He was picked up and carried through the castle. It wasn’t at a run, because he wasn’t being jostled, but they were certainly moving fast.

When he was put down, he was laying on some surface that had a little bit of give, but not enough to feel like a bed. A light was shown in his eyes and he winced, whimpering and trying to shy away from it. That was really unpleasant, did they have to do that right in his eyes?

More talking happened overhead and suddenly someone was pouring small amounts of water into Roman’s mouth. He drank what he could of it, still incredibly out of it but at least thankful for the water. When he started to choke the water stopped, but he swallowed the last of it before his eyes closed, taking away the smears of color and plunging him into unconsciousness.

When Roman woke up, it was to the feeling of something fanning his face and fragments of words he couldn’t piece together.

“...Found him...”

“...Been unconscious?”

“Half an hour, maybe?”

Audio was starting to come back, and Roman wanted to respond, but all he could do was take a sharp breath and start violently coughing. Someone propped him up at an angle and slowly, as he tried taking deep breaths, he settled the coughing and his pounding heart. He cracked his eyes open to find Damien, Virgil, a couple guards, a doctor, and the King standing there. “How are you feeling, Veronica?” the doctor asked.

Roman coughed a couple more times before saying, “‘S Roman.”

“No head trauma, then?” Damien asked, sounding slightly hysterical.

“Well, just because he has a sense of self does not mean no head trauma, but it is highly unlikely he suffered a concussion, seeing as how Virgil caught him before he hit the ground. But yes, he did just pass his first cognitive test.”

“Hm?” Roman asked. “My mother could’ve been here, an’ then I would’ve had to lie.”

“Precisely the reason we didn’t let her or anyone else know that you passed out yet,” Damien said, taking Roman’s hand and squeezing it. “My dear, you’re going to make me go gray before the week is up.”

Roman weakly smiled. “Sorry...just can’t help...falling for you.”

Damien laughed. “Technically, you fell for Virgil this time,” he said, wrinkling his nose as he grinned.

“Roman, when was the last time you had something to drink?” Virgil asked.

“Uh...dunno,” Roman managed. “Was kinda recently, though. Like, within the hour?”

“So dehydration wouldn’t do it, would it?” Virgil asked the doctor.

“Not at first glance, no,” the doctor said. “It’s quite possible that it was just simple exhaustion. Not enough sleep compounded with everything he’s done today.”

“Mm,” Roman groused, “My mother woke me up early today.”

“That would do it,” the doctor said. “Too much effort without enough rest. I advise you to lie low for the time being, Roman. I will check on you in fifteen minutes, and if I decide you’re healthy enough to be left alone, we can get you back to your room. Sound good?”

Roman gave the doctor a thumbs-up and he and most of the guards left, until only Damien, Virgil, and the King remained. “You scared me!” Virgil accused the second they were alone. “Don’t you dare do that again! I thought you were dying!”

“Nah...takes more ‘n that...to kill me,” Roman laughed. “Can I get water?”

Damien passed him an open bottle and he sipped from it. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Damien asked.

Roman shrugged. “The ladies said...said I looked pale. Her Majesty was sending me to my room when I passed out. Didn’t even realize I was tired until I was alone. Did dissociate for a bit in the day room, though.”

Damien sighed. “Roman, you  _ will _ be the death of me!” he exclaimed. “You need to take it easy, and not push yourself beyond your limits!”

“Sorry, honey,” Roman teased, “But that’s my best quality.”

“Not funny,” Damien said with a scowl. “I was  _ terrified, _ Roman. Virgil brought me and Father here and you were pale as a sheet, completely still on the bed. I thought someone had poisoned you and you were dying!”

Roman did feel a little guilt at that. “Sorry. I make light of dark situations to feel a little less bleak,” he said.

Damien pinched the bridge of his nose and made an irritated noise. “I don’t want to leave you alone. But Virgil has to go check in with the guards and make sure that my mother gets updated on the situation, and Father and I do have to get back to the meeting room soon or everyone will come looking for us.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to be swamped by people I barely know,” Roman sighed.

“The doctor may be back in about ten minutes, but that still leaves ten minutes where you might be alone,” Damien said, massaging his forehead. “And I really don’t like that.”

“Hey, Damien, I’ll be fine,” Roman assured. “I can text or call Remus for company, and if something goes wrong the doctor will be here in ten minutes to see if I pass out again, which isn’t super likely. I’ll be okay. You don’t need to worry.”

Damien looked conflicted. “I still don’t want to leave you,” he said.

Roman offered him a smile. “I know. And I’m honored. But you have work to do, and what are the odds that I’m going to take it easy if we start to joke around?”

Damien groaned. “You make a good point, and I hate it,” he groused. “All right. I’ll leave you alone for now, but I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Of course,” Roman said with a smile. “If for no other way than you breaking down the door to my guest room and insisting we both eat dinner on the bed.”

“I’m more chivalrous than breaking down the door,” Damien huffed.

“But you would still come into my room regardless of the state of the door,” Roman said with a grin. “Go on. Go to your meetings. I’ll be fine.”

“All right. I look forward to seeing you at dinner, my dear,” Damien said, taking Roman’s hand and kissing his fingers.

Roman turned bright red as Damien and the King walked away. Virgil was smirking at him. “You know it’s obvious you have the hots for him, right?”

“Shut up,” Roman groaned. “I don’t want to think about how he probably knows I’m crushing on him.”

“Oh, no, he has no clue,” Virgil said with a laugh. “He’s completely oblivious on that front. But no one else is.”

“Gee, thanks, I feel so much better,” Roman snarked.

Virgil shook his head and chuckled. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Good to know,” Roman said, and Virgil retreated.

Roman opened his phone and saw he had two texts from Remus.  _ got some free time to talk, if you’re up for it  _ and  _ ro? you there? _

Roman sighed. The first text was sent half an hour ago, so he doubted Remus would still be free. He texted back,  _ sorry, re. i was out cold when you texted _

The response he got was almost immediate.  _ out cold?! wtf?! what happened?! _

Roman knew that Remus was probably sneaking texts wherever he was in the castle, or else just blatantly ignoring whoever he was talking to in order to talk to Roman. He didn’t want to take up too much of Remus’ time, but he knew that at this point Remus would not stop investigating until he knew that Roman was all right. He was an annoying brother in that respect.  _ passed out in one of the hallways, apparently. mom woke me up early, after i had a panic attack last night, so the doc suspects i was just exhausted _

_ i’m going. to kill her. _

Roman resisted the urge to snicker.  _ normally i wouldn’t stop you, but right now my escape hinges on her playing nice _

The growl was almost audible in Remus’ text.  _ you’re right, and i hate that you’re right. i’m still going to rip her intestines out with a rusty spoon the second i get a chance _

_ ewwwww. remus! enough with the gorey metaphors! we agreed! _ Roman rolled his eyes and tried to not turn green.

_ yeah, yeah, yeah. sorry _

Roman smiled softly.  _ don’t worry about it. what’s up? _

_ ambassadors all vying for my attention, trying to figure out what the details of the wedding are. i’m ignoring them because i don’t know anything but they refuse to believe me _

Roman laughed. That sounded about right.  _ i guess that means no phone call? _

  1. _ father says i’m not allowed to call anyway without him around to listen in. technically i’m not supposed to be texting you, either, but he doesn’t know you’re in my phone as “The Holy Empire” :P_

_ i hate you _

_ love you too, ro <3 _

Roman sighed just as the doctor walked in. “Bad news?” the doctor asked.

“Brother,” Roman said. “Exactly as annoying as you’d expect.”

The doctor laughed. “Try not to let him under your skin  _ too _ much. You need to rest this afternoon. How do you feel overall?”

“Considerably better,” Roman said. “But I would like to rest on a real bed.”

“Yes, I suppose the guards’ cots are not very comfy, are they?” the doctor asked. “Do you still feel dizzy at all? Any nausea? Headaches?”

“None,” Roman said. “I just really want to lie down for a couple hours doing nothing.”

“I can understand why,” the doctor said with a smile. “You can go back to your room. Just take it easy, all right? Don’t push yourself beyond your limits. I know the others will be discussing why you should be allowed to sleep in to your mother, but you can’t push yourself too far either.”

“Understood,” Roman said with a nod.

The doctor helped him stand, and when it was clear that Roman could handle himself, he made his way back to his room. He laid down on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling and letting himself just float in his own thoughts for a time. He didn’t want to deal with any of this for the considerable future. He wanted to sleep for the rest of the week and wake up a married man with plans to start his medical transition.

Unfortunately, it seemed like that wasn’t going to be a viable option. So instead he was going to lie still for a while, and when he was ready, he would gather up his art supplies and start drawing again.

He closed his eyes and must have dozed off because when he checked the clock another hour had passed. He sat up with a stretch and grabbed his sketchbook and pencils. He had no idea what he would draw, but he started sketching random shapes to see if anything came from them. He got a couple flowers, some random people that weren’t based on anyone he knew, and even got a small landscape of trees from it. He was pondering over what to do next, when his musings were interrupted by a knock at the door. He checked the clock. About time for dinner. He sighed, and stood to answer.


	12. Chapter 12

Who he saw on the other side of the door surprised him. “Damien?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, Father’s meetings are over and we were about to have dinner, so I figured I could walk you down there. I hope that’s all right?” Damien asked.

“Oh, yeah! Sure!” Roman said, walking out and closing the door behind him.

“So, I saw that you had a sketchbook when Virgil found you about to pass out in the hallway,” Damien said. “Anything interesting in there?”

Roman flushed and tried to ignore the way his heart hammered as he thought about his sketches of Damien. “Uh, not too much. Some flowers, trees, faces, people. Just little random things that don’t take too much effort to draw.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have drawn me, would you?” Damien asking, smirking.

“I...uh...what?” Roman asked. Did Damien know? Worse, had he flipped through Roman’s sketchbook?!

“I’m merely teasing, my dear,” Damien said after a half-beat of silence. “I know I’m not much to look at.”

Roman laughed. “Well, that’s a complete lie.”

Damien turned to Roman with a slight frown. “I beg your pardon?”

“Then beg,” Roman said. “You’re not ‘nothing to look at,’ you’re rather attractive.”

Damien turned bright crimson. “I can only assume you’re the only person here who thinks that,” he managed to choke out. He mumbled something that sounded vaguely like, “The only person that matters,” but Roman couldn’t figure out exactly how deep he wanted to go down that rabbit hole, so he let it be for now.

“I mean, I have heard several people who are either visiting or are new workers talk about you and your looks in a positive light,” Roman said conversationally. “Which is not to say that people who have known you longer think you’re less attractive, just that you at the very least hold yourself well around others.”

“At first glance, to be sure, but the fact that it’s only people who don’t know me speaks more to me than you’d like to admit,” Damien said. “I can only act proper for so long before I have to be human again.”

Roman laughed and offered Damien a soft smile, which caused Damien to stare, even as they kept walking...and he proceeded to tumble down a flight of stairs as a result. “Oh, god!” Roman exclaimed, rushing down the stairs and stopping on the third step, one step above where Damien’s legs had landed, as he was sprawled on his back, blinking up at the ceiling with a wince. “Are you okay?!”

“What can I say, my dear?” Damien weakly laughed as guards rushed into the room. “I can’t help falling for you.”

Roman laughed, only slightly hysterical. “Damien, you nearly snapped your neck and that’s all you can say?”

Damien sat up with a groan and rubbed his head. “Relax, my dear, this is hardly the first time I’ve fallen down the steps. I’m what you might call a ‘klutz,’” he joked.

“So am I, and I’ve fallen down my fair share of stairs, which means I know how much it hurts,” Roman said. “Are you okay?”

“Aside from my head and back throbbing, I’m fine,” Damien said. “It’s not every day I land on my head and proceed to do a flip down the stairs. That’s impressive, even for me.”

Roman laughed again, and he definitely was hysterical this time. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized.

Damien shrugged. “Could be worse. I could have been holding a child,” he offered.

“Considering your track record with balance, I don’t think anyone would hand you a child, let alone allow you to carry one around stairs,” Roman said drily.

“Okay, you have a point,” he said, standing shakily. “But I’m fine.”

“Uh, I’ll be the judge of that,” Virgil said, walking in. “Down the stairs again, Damien? Really? Are you and Roman  _ trying _ to make me go gray this week?”

“No, but it’s always an added bonus,” Damien said, offering a cheeky grin.

Virgil retaliated by shining his flashlight in Damien’s eyes, causing Damien to groan. “Well, no immediate signs of a concussion,” Virgil said. “But if you puke, you’re answering to me for not looking where you were walking  _ again.” _

“It was my fault,” Roman said. “I distracted him.”

“Listen, Roman, I don’t care  _ how _ pretty your smile is, Damien needs to look where he’s walking. It’s his fault.” Virgil scoffed. “Damien may have the hots for you, but that’s no excuse.”

“I do not—!” Damien sputtered. “How dare—You little—Oh, I’m going to kill you when we spar next.”

“Good luck with that,” Virgil said simply. Then, he turned and called down the hall, “Everything’s fine, His Royal Highness merely fell down the stairs...again!”

Faintly, the Queen’s laughter floated into the room and Roman giggled, walking down the rest of the steps and guiding a very red Damien to the dining room. “I can’t believe you hijacked my joke!” Roman exclaimed in a hushed whisper. “You hi-joked!”

“What, so you have a monopoly on ‘falling for you’ jokes?” Damien playfully scoffed.

“Yes!” Roman exclaimed. “It’s the only good joke I’ve got! Allow me that joke, please!”

Damien rolled his eyes, though the smile he wore ruined the effect. “What will you do if I don’t?” he asked. “Kiss me into quiet?”

Roman squeaked and turned red, looking away. Oh, god, why did Damien have to be this cute? Anyone else and Roman could have easily shouted them down. But with Damien, he actually  _ wanted _ to do that. “I might tell your parents that you’ve been nothing but cheeky with me for the whole day.”

Damien chewed his lip. “They wouldn’t be pleased with that,” he admitted softly. “Okay. The ‘falling for you’ jokes are all yours...for now.”

Roman grinned victoriously just as they walked into the dining room, and the Queen and King laughed. “I’m sure whatever just happened between you two must have been something, with a smile like that,” the King said.

Roman blushed a little but his smile didn’t dim as he and Damien sat next to each other at the table. His mother was across from him and the King was across from Damien, with the Queen next to the King. Patton and a few cooks walked out, and Roman grinned. Soup, with bacon and potatoes as the main ingredients, if Roman wasn’t mistaken. “Try not to spill any soup, Your Highness,” Patton teased. “I know you’re a klutz but you want to come across as  _ somewhat _ competent.”

“Ha ha ha. You’re hilarious, Patton,” Damien said with an eye-roll. “Believe it or not, I can work a spoon for soup.”

“Just reminding you,” Patton said. “Seeing as how there was a crash loud enough that we heard it in the kitchen, I figured you must have dropped  _ something.” _

“Yeah, that something was himself. Down the stairs,” Roman said, smirking.

Patton laughed. “Oh, Your Highness, what are we going to do with you?” He shook his head, laughing with the other cooks as they retreated to the kitchen.

Damien sulked as Roman laughed with the King and Queen about Damien’s track record with balance. “Chin up, Damien,” Roman said, nudging him. “When we dance again, you get to laugh at me all you want.”

“My dear, I don’t want to laugh at you,” Damien said. “I’m just tired of being known as a klutz.”

Roman sighed and gave Damien a small smile. “I know the feeling of not wanting to be branded as something for life.”

Roman’s mother gave him a searching stare. Roman pretended not to notice. Maybe that last comment gave too much away, but he was certain to be in trouble should he look up nervously now. “So, Damien, anything you can talk about in the meetings you attended today?” Roman asked.

“Not much that would be of interest to you, I’m afraid,” Damien sighed. “I will say that during the talk about security, Virgil did bring up security risks, and true to form, everyone gave me a stern look. But they did joke about me sneaking off the grounds in the middle of the night to escape the wedding.”

“If anything, that would be me,” Roman laughed. “You live here. It wouldn’t be fair to make you run away from your own home.”

Damien offered Roman a teasing smile. “Oh, you’ve put thought into this,” Damien said. “Not getting cold feet, are you, my dear?”

“I would argue that my feet were never warm in the first place,” Roman said. “But your hospitality has acted like a pair of fuzzy socks.”

Damien’s eyes lit up. “You genuinely mean that?”

Roman took a sip of soup as he nodded. “Mhm. You’ve changed my mind about this whole ordeal. I’m not...you know... _ thrilled _ or over the moon, so to speak, but you make the thought more bearable.”

Damien looked down at the table, grinning wide, before glancing at Roman and looking like he was about to squeal. “I’m happy that I can make you more comfortable in this ordeal,” he eventually said.

Roman offered Damien a smile. “I’m rather happy that you make the effort. I don’t know many people who would do that with complete sincerity.”

Damien reached out hesitantly before giving Roman’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Of course, my dear. It just wouldn’t do to allow you to remain uncomfortable if I have the power to change that.”

Roman nodded. Simple chivalry. That’s all Damien was offering him at the moment. It wasn’t a bad thing, and there wasn’t any worry about him offering feelings that Roman wouldn’t know what to do with. He had boyfriends before, sure, but never when he was out as being trans. Not when the other party  _ knew _ he was trans. And he didn’t know what he would do if someone accepted him in his entire identity.

So why did some part of him feel disappointed that’s all it was?

“Veronica,” his mother said. He threw her a glance, and she continued, “What do you plan on doing this evening?”

“Why?” Roman asked. “The doctor said I needed rest, I can’t exactly push myself.”

His mother tsked. “Would you have the energy to talk to your father? He’s been asking after you and I think if he heard your voice it would calm his worries.”

Roman cringed. “Father wouldn’t want to talk to me,” he said. “At the very least, I don’t want to talk to him. He’s still convinced he’s right over our argument and I very much do not want to devolve into a shouting match.”

“You know that your father and I were right in that, Veronica,” his mother warned.

“No. I don’t,” Roman said. “Neither of you would listen to my position, my reasoning. And I will not blindly follow you off a cliff. You may be trying to prove your point, but all I see is cowardice and ignorance on yours and Father’s front. How scared of change do you have to be to toss anything that you don’t like changing to the  _ side, _ like  _ trash? _ Do you really think so little of me? That you would rather I stay quiet and miserable than speak my mind and feel comfortable?”

His mother was outright glaring at him, and he just scowled right back. “And you wonder why you feel like I’ve been avoiding you,” Roman scoffed, “When you refuse to listen to my side of the story! I know myself, Mother! Better than you  _ or _ Father do! Maybe I’m not the Crown Prince, like Remus is, but my opinions still matter!”

Damien put his hand on Roman’s. “My dear, perhaps we should go somewhere private to eat? Clearly, there are some fresh wounds that you may need to talk through, away from those causing those wounds in the first place.” The last part was said with a pointed look at Roman’s mother.

Roman’s mother turned her ire onto Damien. “Damien, you do not know the way our family functions. To have you only listen to one side of the story would be unwise.”

“If this argument is the one related to the ‘stunt’ you referred to last night, then I have already heard your thoughts on the matter. You are right that hearing only one side of the story is not wise, but so far I have only heard yours,” Damien said coolly. “Perhaps a gentler touch than the one you’re providing is needed.”

Roman’s mother gasped and the Queen softly warned, “Damien, that was out of line.”

“Well, I cannot sit here and watch as my fiancé suffers!” Damien protested. “Has Her Majesty told you what has been going on within their family?”

“She has,” the Queen said. “She explained to me last night.”

“Then you must understand how that sort of tension wears on a person! All I want to do is make sure that my betrothed has the space needed to vent, or to cry. Truth be told, I am beyond incensed at this entire situation! I do not want to be part of some little scheme to ‘set someone straight,’ I wanted to have the freedom to marry someone who I truly loved! You took that from me!” Damien’s voice cracked as he stood, and Roman was frozen in place. He had never even considered Damien might feel that way. “I spend time with Veronica because neither of us wanted to be in this situation, but now that we are, the least we can do is make each other feel a little better! I understand that she’s sweet, and kind, and marrying her would be some sort of benefit to both kingdoms, but never, not  _ once, _ were our opinions or feelings considered! I wanted to marry someone I truly loved, and I don’t doubt Veronica felt the same! You stole that from us! All of you! And you have the  _ nerve _ to say that we shouldn’t speak our minds, and how we feel about this?! It’s not fair!”

The whole table was silent, and Damien grabbed his bowl of soup, saying to Roman, “My dear, would you rather we eat somewhere else?”

“Please,” Roman said, voice small. He grabbed his bowl and followed Damien out the door.

They walked in silence until they reached the mudroom, and Damien sat down on one of the benches, gesturing for Roman to sit. He took the opposite bench, balancing his bowl on shaky legs. “I’m sorry,” Roman blurted.

Damien blinked in surprise. “For what, my dear?”

“I...I never once considered how you might feel being forced to marry me. I knew that I didn’t want to be married, if only because you didn’t know who I truly was, but the option for you to marry someone you truly loved was ripped away in this scheme as well, and I never stopped to consider...” Roman swallowed, looking away.

“My dear, don’t blame yourself,” Damien said. “Like I said in the dining room, it was our parents who took that opportunity away from us. Furthermore, I don’t want you to blame yourself for saying you don’t wish to speak with your father, understand? That may have started this discussion, but I was bound to lose my temper sooner or later. Being around your mother does that to me.”

Roman snorted. “She has that effect on a lot of people.”

Damien actually  _ giggled _ at that, slightly hysterically. “I sincerely hope this doesn’t affect the marriage. Much as I would love to court a man properly, your safety is paramount in this situation.”

Roman felt his heart skip a beat at that declaration. “Do you truly mean that?” he asked. “I understand if you would like to call this off, and I’m sure we could convince your parents to stop it if we staged a falling out...”

“No, Roman,” Damien said. “I want to make sure that you are safe. Remember our first true discussion out at the cliff? We can always choose different lovers than each other, if we so wish. And so long as they understand that this is consensual, there wouldn’t be any issues.”

Roman nodded reluctantly. Truth be told, he didn’t want a lover other than Damien, not now, maybe not ever. But if Damien had his heart set on another man, it wouldn’t be fair to Damien for Roman to stop him. After all, Roman was the one who was just dropped into Damien’s lap and everyone expected Damien to be fine with it. If there was someone else in Damien’s life, it wouldn’t be fair for Roman to expect Damien just drop him for the sake of their arranged marriage.

They ate their soup in silence for a few minutes, before Damien sighed. “Roman, I don’t know if you realize how close I was to throttling your mother. When this whole ordeal is over, I may make plans to ban her from the kingdom.”

“She wouldn’t want to come back if I continue my transition and ‘become’ a man,” Roman sighed. “It feels a bit like a moot point.”

“I’d still do it,” Damien said. “Especially because of the distress this caused you. I can’t tell you how close I was to telling your mother that I knew, and that she needed to respect you. But seeing as how calling you ‘Roman’ would have let her know that we had discussed this, I tried to keep my language as gender neutral as possible.”

“I know, and I greatly appreciate it,” Roman said. “I’m sure your parents are relieved as well that you didn’t do that. You would have put them in a very tricky position, between telling you to calm down and trying to convince my mother that they were on her side without hurting me.”

“My parents’ comfort comes second,” Damien said. “If they were uncomfortable with you being transgender, I wouldn’t care how uncomfortable they were. I would still use your real name.”

Roman offered Damien a soft smile. “You’re too kind, Your Highness.”

“I would argue you expect too little, Your Highness,” Damien shot back, mischief in his eyes.

“Oh?” Roman asked, smirking himself. “And how do you propose we settle this dispute?”

Damien offered Roman a shrug. “I don’t know. I suppose we could always go the cheesy rom-com route and kiss each other for a full minute.”

“Tongues battling for dominance?” Roman teased. “Like a certain fanfiction of Remus’ I may or may not have read wherein he tried to use every single trope he hated in a single fic?”

Damien howled with laughter and Roman snickered himself. “Oh, god, it’s been far too long since I’ve heard that phrase. I don’t suppose most fanfiction writers have grown out of using it?”

“I think it depends on the age and experience of the writer,” Roman said with an eye-roll. “I wouldn’t know for certain, however. Remus is the writer, I’m the artist.”

“Ah,” Damien said, nodding. “Makes sense. I haven’t read fanfiction in a while. All the shows I was interested in either ended or didn’t have much of an online fanbase, so I just...stopped.”

“You should try and pick it up again, if something sparks your fancy,” Roman said, finishing the last of his soup. “You never know, you might find a really good fic that makes you reevaluate your very existence.”

“Or at the very least find a new kink,” Damien muttered.

Roman choked. “Okay, see, that falls under reevaluating your very existence, for me, but you just sounded so much like Remus in that moment, I want to take a moment to appreciate that.”

Damien chuckled. “Your brother likes inappropriate jokes?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Roman laughed.

Damien huffed a laugh. “Shall we put our bowls in the kitchen and find somewhere to hide from our parents for a while longer?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Roman agreed.


	13. Chapter 13

They snuck the bowls back into the kitchen and then wandered the halls somewhat aimlessly for a while. Roman didn’t mind, though. Damien was good company, even when silent, and walking side by side was proving to be quite relaxing. “Do you wish to go back to the ballroom?” Damien asked. “We could practice dancing more.”

“Sure, why not?” Roman replied. “Will anyone look for us there?”

“Oh, eventually, but we’ll have time,” Damien said.

“Time enough to run if someone wants to lecture us on our behavior?” Roman asked.

“Well, I suppose that depends on how much time we spend dancing,” Damien said, leading Roman through the corridors to the ball room.

Roman sighed. “I wish we could just...do whatever we wanted during this week. That we didn’t have to do all the planning and talking to ambassadors and meetings and...everything that we have to do. It’s just...so overwhelming!”

“I know,” Damien tutted. “It’s a lot for anyone, even people who are voluntarily getting married. When it’s just foisted upon you...it’s even more to deal with, considering the emotional turmoil.”

They entered the ballroom, and Roman felt that guilt gnawing at him again. “I’m really sorry we’re stuck marrying each other,” he said.

“Roman, if I had to be married to anyone without my say in the matter, I’m happy that at least it’s to you,” Damien said, and his sincerity was almost scary.

“Why? Why me?” Roman asked. “Is it just because I’m a man?”

“Well, that doesn’t hurt,” Damien said with a dry smile. They started to dance and Damien sighed. “In all honesty, I just think that in another life, we may have had a chance to fall in love naturally. We get along well, we trust each other, and our orientations line up so that we have the potential to be interested in one another. We never got a good chance to socialize with each other before this week, true, but I think if we had...there could have been a natural spark there. Of course, I could just be making things up, but—”

“—No, I can see that being a possibility too,” Roman said softly. His cheeks were on fire but he forced himself to meet Damien’s gaze. “If we took away our parents and everyone’s expectations from the equation, I could almost see...” he trailed off. How much could he say without revealing his crush?

“You could almost see...what?” Damien looked...hopeful?

“I could almost see us getting married anyway, of our own volition,” Roman said. Damien grinned and Roman giggled a little, ever-so-slightly nervous. “We’re both horrible messes,” he said with a laugh.

“Completely hopeless,” Damien agreed, chuckling as well.

They continued to dance, unable to stop laughing, but Roman didn’t look down at his feet once, keeping his eyes on Damien as he tried to contain his laughter. Damien was biting his lip and his shoulders shook, but he was still helplessly snickering. It made Roman laugh himself, seeing all that effort with no success over something as easy and as difficult as stopping laughing.

Damien misstepped in the dance and wound up crashing to the floor, taking Roman with him. Roman shrieked before laughing as he fell on top of Damien and he pushed himself up on his hands and knees shakily. “Are you okay?” he laughed.

“Fine, my dear,” Damien said, resting his head on the floor with a sigh. “That certainly took me off guard.”

Roman laughed. “You yanked us both down onto the floor and that’s all you can say?”

“My dear, I am what you might call ‘extremely exhausted.’ Give me a break,” Damien grumbled.

“All right, all right,” Roman said, moving off of Damien to sit next to him. “Although our laughter may have alerted people to our presence.”

“True,” Damien sighed. “But the sun has pretty much set, which means I can show you a nice perk about living on the top of the mountain, away from the town below.”

“Which would be?” Roman asked.

Damien stood and helped Roman to his feet as he said softly, “The roof is perfect for stargazing.”

Roman’s eyes lit up and Damien laughed, leading Roman through the halls at a speed just under a run. They climbed up staircase after staircase, and soon enough they reached a door that, when opened, led them to the roof of the castle. Roman looked up and gasped. There were so many stars! It was like he could see the entire Milky Way from here!

“Like it?” Damien asked, closing the door behind them and leading Roman further out onto the roof.

“I love it,” Roman said, never tearing his eyes from the sky.

Damien laughed next to him. “The guards would use this space to defend the castle in the old days, but now there’s not really a need for that, and they’ll occasionally make their rounds up here, but for the most part, you could stay out here all night without being interrupted.”

“This is amazing,” Roman breathed. “I don’t know a whole lot about constellations, but I never cared about finding them much when I was a child. I just liked watching the stars themselves.”

“Stargazing is rather relaxing, especially when you’re not worrying about what constellations you can and can’t see,” Damien agreed. “Shall we sit down, or lie down? So you don’t have to crane your neck all night?”

“Hm? Oh, sure,” Roman said.

Damien laid down on his back and Roman followed suit, lacing his fingers over his stomach. He looked up at the stars for a while, before glancing over at Damien. Damien looked back at him and quirked an eyebrow. “Something on your mind?”

“You didn’t have to defend me at dinner,” Roman said. “And you talked about having the option to marry someone you love ripped away from you, but you included me in that speech as well. You said that it applied to both of us.”

“It does apply to both of us,” Damien said with a frown.

“Yeah, but...but you have every reason in the world to resent me. But you defended me anyway. You stayed on my side, even though I’m part of the problem. I’m the  _ reason _ we’re in this mess in the first place.” Roman shook his head. “But you still defend me.”

“Of course,” Damien said. “It’s not your fault we’re here. If you’re going to blame anyone for that, blame your parents. You’re just as much a victim to their bigotry as anyone else. Moreso, in fact, considering your identity.”

Roman sighed. “It’s not fair,” he said. “And I know that most people would just respond that life isn’t fair, but why not? Shouldn’t life be fair? Shouldn’t everyone have their own chance at happiness, if it isn’t hurting others?”

“It really should be,” Damien said softly. His head turned towards the door and he hissed. “I hear people approaching. How well can you feign sleep?”

“Reasonably well, why?” Roman asked.

“Because if you pretend to be asleep, not only will any ire be focused on me, but people are less likely to shout,” Damien said. “Are you willing to let me take the blame for this one?”

“No one should take the blame,” Roman said.

“Agreed. But someone  _ has _ to. So will you allow me to take the hit this time round?” Damien asked.

Roman sighed and nodded.

“Close your eyes,” Damien instructed.

Roman did so with a sigh, and no sooner did he do so than the door opened and footsteps approached. “Damien!” Virgil exclaimed.

Damien shushed him. “Quiet,” he said. “My fiancé is sleeping.”

“Oh. Just as well. His mother’s on the warpath,” Virgil muttered. “And her and your mother are both on their way up.”

Roman almost startled as Damien brought his hands under Roman’s knees and upper torso, but instead merely shifted as Damien brought him close to his chest. “I will not allow Her Majesty to wake him up. He needs rest,” Damien murmured.

More footsteps, and Virgil replied, “Agreed, we won’t wake the princess for this conversation. She was merely following your lead anyway.”

“I merely asked if she wished to eat somewhere else, is that such a crime?” Damien hissed softly.

“That is not. The way you treated our other guest is debatably so,” the Queen said. “Damien, I’m surprised at you. You never act out, and especially not around guests.”

“Well, I couldn’t just let that conversation continue,” Damien said. “It was clearly distressing for all parties.”

Roman’s mother scoffed, and Damien held Roman close. “You really need to reconsider how you treat houseguests, if you think that suggesting that I was hurting my own daughter is acceptable.”

“Your Majesty, all due respect, but I’ve learned more about your daughter over the past two days than she has probably told you in months. She trusts me, and we understand each other. I will not sit by and watch Veronica get more and more frustrated because her own mother refuses to listen to her!”

Roman’s mother snarled, and Roman’s stomach sank as she asked what he feared she would. “Do you agree with her?”

“Pardon?” Damien asked.

“Do agree with her? That she is actually a man?!” Roman’s mother demanded.

“I hardly see how that is important to this conversation; I was under the impression I was being told off for being impolite to  _ you, _ no one else,” Damien dodged.

“That is not an answer to my question!” Roman’s mother pressed.

Damien growled and it took every fiber of will in Roman’s body to keep relaxed as he pretended to sleep. “I do believe that transgender people exist,” Damien said. “I believe they have the right to transition, and go by whatever name and pronouns they wish, and they don’t deserve to be degraded, humiliated, or shipped away simply because of who they are. Whether Veronica is transgender or not is not for me or you to decide.”

“If it is not my decision, whose is it?  _ I’m _ her mother!” his mother snarled.

“It is no one’s decision. Because it’s not a choice. But if Veronica would rather go by a male’s name, and use he and him pronouns, then by all means, I would respect that. As of yet, she has not told me any such thing, and therefore I will treat her the way I have treated her thus far,” Damien said. “Why are you so against transgender individuals? The vitriol you’ve had towards the notion that Veronica may be transgender is very telling.”

“I do not—”

“—You do,” Damien interrupted her, standing. “You have so much hatred in your tone, and Veronica has informed me that I’m being used as a chess piece to ‘set her straight.’ I can only assume she was experimenting with her gender identity at home. Was there a name she wished to be called during all this?”

“That’s not—”

“—Was there?!” Damien seethed.

Roman’s mother was silent for a whole minute. “Roman,” his mother sighed.

Damien murmured, “Roman?” to him and Roman slowly cracked one eye open. “Do you wish to go to bed, Roman?” Damien asked.

“Mm. Mhm,” Roman hummed.

Damien looked back at Roman’s mother with a pure red hot fury. “It appears that  _ he _ responds faster to that than  _ he _ responds to your name for him. If that isn’t telling, I don’t know what is. I will be taking  _ him _ to  _ his _ chambers. You can decide what you wish to do to punish me tomorrow morning. For now,  _ Roman _ and I both need our sleep.”

_ “Her _ name is Veronica!” Roman’s mother spat.

Damien shoved past her and turned over his shoulder as he said, “All due respect, Your Majesty...you’re wrong.”

At which point Damien fled down the steps, Roman holding onto Damien’s shoulders tightly, praying that Damien wouldn’t trip over his own feet.

Miraculously, Damien went down the stairs and dodged people in the halls with a precision that Roman envied. When they got to Roman’s room, Damien wheezed. “That was not wise,” he said, sounding borderline hysterical. “I couldn’t give less of a damn, but that was not wise. The fact that I didn’t hit a single person proves my fight-or-flight is in full swing and I’m close to panicking.”

Roman gently climbed out of Damien’s grip and gently guided him into Roman’s guest room. “Your Highness, maybe you should take a seat,” Roman said softly, closing the door behind them with a soft  _ click _ and guiding Damien to the bed.

“I screwed up,” Damien breathed. “I screwed up and they’re going to send you away, and you’ll be in deeper trouble than when you were brought here.”

“That’s not true,” Roman said. “At least, you didn’t screw up. You did exactly what you thought was right. Sure, your parents may have some explaining to do, and we might have to work harder to keep me in the closet, but I don’t doubt that my parents would be reluctant to set this up somewhere else, not the least because news has already come out about my marriage here. They don’t like it when people ask too many questions, and they’ll want to keep this as much on the down-low as possible.”

There was a knock on Roman’s door, and Roman and Damien shared a glance. “I don’t want to answer that,” Roman said in a low voice.

“I don’t either, but I’m not sure either of us have a choice in the matter. Virgil has a skeleton key so even if we locked the door, it wouldn’t stay that way for long,” Damien said.

Roman sighed and laid back on the bed, covering his eyes with an arm. The person knocked again. “Damien, I know you’re in there,” the Queen said.

Damien sighed, and went over to answer the door, and the Queen and Roman’s mother walked in. “Damien, your behavior tonight has been completely inexcusable. Normally, I would give you a warning, but considering that you have done nothing but antagonize Diana since dinner, something must be done to teach you a lesson about manners.”

“You know as well as I do that  _ she _ is  _ wrong,” _ Damien snarled.

“No,” the Queen said, and Roman flinched, even knowing it was a lie.

“No?” Damien asked incredulously.

“Veronica is not transgender,” the Queen said. “If Diana says that she was merely acting out, then that is what was going on, and encouraging that behavior is not wise.”

“But  _ Roman _ has clearly been in distress for the past two days, how have you not seen that?!  _ He _ needs to be  _ himself!” _ Damien defended.

“Damien,” Roman said softly. “Stop.”

Damien turned to him, a determined fire in his eyes until he saw Roman sit up in bed. Roman was sure he looked every bit of exhausted that he felt. He didn’t want the fighting to continue. If he had to play along with this whole game in order to get sleep, then he would play along for the night. “I just want to sleep. I appreciate you defending me, truly. But...but it’s not worth it. None of it is worth this level of fighting.”

“You’re in distress, my dear, someone has to defend you!” Damien said.

“It’s not worth it,” Roman repeated. “It’s not worth fighting over, it’s not worth dying over. Mother wants me to be Veronica. I don’t give a damn what she wants, I’m going to be who I’m going to be. And I can reflect on who that is tomorrow morning. But for tonight, I just want to sleep.”

“I...” Damien trailed off. “I want you to be free to be yourself, my dear.”

“I know,” Roman said with a soft smile. “And I truly appreciate it. But I had not reflected on who I was for long before I wanted to experiment with my gender. It’s possible I’m not actually Roman. And I don’t want to be pushed into a box in either direction. I’ll find my own way. I just ask that I be allowed the freedom to find that way on my own.”

“Of course,” Damien said. But he looked so heartbroken and desperate that Roman wanted nothing more to hug him and say that it was part of the act. He hoped Damien knew that. Tomorrow, Roman resolved, he would talk to Damien about this. They needed to speak about how they were going to go forward anyway, and clearly, they needed to talk more about that and what lines Damien and Roman both couldn’t cross. “My apologies. I’ll let you rest, my dear.”

“You two have more of the wedding to plan tomorrow afternoon, but until then, Damien, I don’t want you anywhere near Veronica, is that understood? No talking, no texting, no sending any of the workers after her to deliver a message. Hopefully that will be enough to make you realize that your actions have consequences,” the Queen said.

“Mother—!” Damien protested.

“—This is not up for debate, Damien. Say good night to Veronica, and go to your room. Your father and I need to have some words with you.”

Damien turned to Roman, apologies filling his gaze. “Good night, my dear. I hope you rest well, and I will see you tomorrow afternoon.”

Roman offered him a weak smile. “I look forward to it, Your Highness. I will let you know what conclusions I make from my reflections then. Is that acceptable?”

“I look forward to hearing your response,” Damien said, giving Roman a slight bow and swiftly leaving the room.

“I truly apologize for his behavior, Diana,” the Queen said. “He usually doesn’t act like this. He may be sleeping little and eating even less, but that is no excuse for his actions.”

Roman’s mother nodded in that infuriatingly false placating way she always did when she didn’t believe what someone was saying, or didn’t want to show how royally pissed she was. “Of course, I know how horribly children can act up, even when they are supposedly adults.” Oh, Roman was going to kill her. “Will I see you tomorrow morning for breakfast, again?”

“I believe so,” the Queen said. “Just remember that Veronica needs to sleep in, doctor’s orders. We can have lunch, just the three of us, that’s just as good as breakfast.”

Roman’s mother nodded again and the Queen said, “We should probably leave Veronica to herself, now, however, Diana. She said herself she is exhausted, and she was merely following Damien’s lead when she left the dining room. I don’t think she should be in trouble for merely trying to please the man she is about to be married to.”

“I suppose not,” Roman’s mother said, but she sounded reluctant.

Roman said nothing, looking between the two women silently. “We’ll leave you to rest, dear, it’s quite all right,” the Queen said. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Roman parroted, and the two women left the room. Roman got ready for bed and turned out the room’s light with a sigh. Tomorrow was going to be hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me. ^-^;; I promise I have a reason for this chapter ending!


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning, Roman woke up with a long stretch and a sigh, checking the time. Nine thirty in the morning. He had slept in just long enough to reasonably skip breakfast with his mother and the Queen. Nice. He sat up in bed and rubbed his head with a soft groan. Didn’t mean he was looking forward to spending the whole morning without any contact with the one man who made this whole experience bearable, but if he were quiet in his room he could let people think he was just asleep for at least another hour.

He sifted through his books and art supplies, finding nothing of interest to him in any of them. He sighed. This was going to be exceptionally difficult if he were bored. He couldn’t stay in his room with nothing to do except maybe play with an app or two on his phone. He needed to move around, or at least have something that would fully capture his interest. And any apps remaining on his phone wouldn’t do that for him. He fiddled with his phone for a minute before texting Remus his predicament, asking for suggestions on things to do.

Remus, true to form, sent him a ridiculous suggestion in response.  _ why not bug some of the guards around the castle? find the best places to make out with fh _

_ oh, screw you too, re! _ Roman texted back.  _ i might talk to some of the guards, tho. they could show me where to hide from mother _

_ that’s the spirit! _ Remus said.  _ go find out where to hide from mother AND make out with fh _

Roman sent Remus a knife emoji and headed to shower, after realizing he had failed to do so yesterday. Dysphoria was a bitch, but at least Roman felt slightly cleaner afterwards.

He walked out of the bathroom, phone in his skirt pocket and hair pulled into a low braid, promptly running through the halls until he reached the main foyer, finding Virgil talking to some of the other guards. “Hey, Virgil!” Roman said, walking down the stairs. “I’m trying to hide from my mother, do you mind if I shadow you today?”

Virgil glanced over at Roman and rolled his eyes. “I don’t mind as long as you stay quiet, and if I tell you to get lost for your own safety you do so.”

“Cool,” Roman said. “Anywhere you were going in particular?”

“Not as of yet,” Virgil said. “Have you had breakfast?”

“No, I just woke up and showered,” Roman said.

“Well, then we should probably go to the kitchen and get you something to eat,” Virgil said. One of the guards he had been talking to snickered and Virgil turned to him with a glare. “Shut it. I’m making sure the prince is fed, nothing more.”

Roman sent Virgil a questioning glance as Virgil led him to the kitchen. Virgil sighed. “The guards are all convinced I’m in love with Patton,” he said with an eye-roll. “To which I respond that if they’re so sure, they should get me and him in a room alone. No one has the guts to do it.”

Roman laughed. “Oh, that’s cute!” he exclaimed. “Do you actually like him?”

“I’m not saying,” Virgil said. “Not to the man who can’t even see that his fiancé has a massive crush on him. You couldn’t be subtle even if you tried, and I am not letting you put any ideas in Patton’s head.”

“Damien doesn’t have a crush on me,” Roman scoffed. Virgil snorted. “He doesn’t! How could he? He’s...listen, he’s gorgeous, okay? He’s gorgeous, and funny, and genuine. And I’m just...me.”

“Roman, there is nothing ‘just’ about you,” Virgil said with a scoff. “So you can cut that out right now. And trust me, not just any guy will leave Damien speechless simply because he holds his head high. Damien likes you. He doesn’t have the guts to admit it, and he won’t say anything unless confronted, but he likes you.”

Roman laughed. Virgil lightly smacked Roman upside the head. “Hey!” Roman protested.

“I’m serious, Your Highness. Damien likes you,” Virgil said. “And you like him. Honestly, the two of you should just make out already. Not where I can see, because gross, but I’ll show you some spots where you can make out with him if you just say the word.”

“I do  _ not _ need that information, Virgil, but thank you,” Roman said with a little laugh. “In all seriousness, though, I sincerely doubt that Damien could ever like me. Sure, I like him. I’ll admit it. But I doubt it’s anything more than a crush. And even if Damien seriously liked me...it wouldn’t be fair to try and date when I wasn’t sure if I even liked him as much as he supposedly likes me.”

They walked into the kitchen and Patton turned with a smile. “Who likes  _ who?” _ he asked with a grin.

“The two idiots we have the pleasure of calling our future kings,” Virgil said, jerking a thumb at Roman.

Roman stuck his tongue out at Virgil while Patton just giggled. “Oh, I thought you were talking about  _ news, _ my mistake!” he exclaimed. “Roman, I heard about last night through the grapevine, and I’m really sorry. Is there any food I can make to console you?”

“Not really anything to console me,” Roman said with a shrug. “But I could use a breakfast in general.”

“Say no more!” Patton exclaimed, holding up a finger and heading to the refrigerator. “Virgil, be a dear and make sure that his mother isn’t coming, will you? We can’t hide him away forever, but he needs to finish breakfast before he’s confronted, at least.”

Virgil’s cheeks tinged a dusty pink but he said, “Sure,” in a normal voice and walked out of the room.

“Oh, he’s crushing,” Roman muttered.

“Honey, we been knew,” Patton said with a wide grin. “But he’s not ready for anything yet, so I won’t push him.”

Roman laughed and walked over to where Patton was bringing out eggs, ham, cheese, and bread. “You okay with a sandwich for breakfast, Your Highness?” Patton asked.

“Sounds delicious,” Roman said with a smile.

Patton took what he needed to the stovetop and started to cook everything together, while he stuck the bread in the toaster. “So, Roman, are you genuinely going to consider whether or not you’re trans this morning? Is it true that you hadn’t considered it for long?”

“I don’t know about the first question, but I had considered for months whether or not I should come out, and months before that as to whether or not I’m genuinely trans. I don’t see myself changing my mind anytime soon.” Roman shrugged. “I mostly said that to placate my mother. I say a lot of things to placate her, so what’s another lie? I just hope Damien knows how I actually feel, because he looked devastated when I told him to stop last night.”

“When do you get to talk to him again?” Patton asked.

“This afternoon,” Roman said. “But I imagine it’ll be restricted to mostly wedding talk. Why?”

“Well, I did deliver breakfast to Damien’s room this morning,” Patton said, worrying his lip. “But his parents didn’t confine him there. He just...refused to leave.”

Roman’s heart leapt into his throat. His mind raced. Was that because of Roman? Had he hurt Damien that much by saying he might not be trans? Did Damien feel lied to? Roman didn’t know, but he wouldn’t find out until this afternoon. Suddenly, he didn’t have as much of an appetite.

“Hey, Roman, it’s going to be okay,” Patton said, putting his hands on Roman’s shoulders and snapping him back into the moment. “None of this is your fault, and I know Damien knows that too. He doesn’t blame you. The most we have to worry about is if he blames himself.”

“What happens if he does that?” Roman asked, worried.

“He’ll isolate himself and won’t want anything to do with whoever he perceived he hurt. But I know Logan will be dragging Damien out of his room whether he wants to be out or not because he has papers to work on,” Patton said. “And usually once he has something to work on he feels much better.”

“Okay,” Roman said, heart settling only a fraction. At least Damien wouldn’t do anything drastic. He sincerely hoped that Damien wouldn’t try to avoid him, though. Damien was the one who made this all bearable. The Queen and King were nice, yes, but the Queen had to act like she was on his mother’s side, and that was painful enough last night. He didn’t want to deal with that any longer than he had to. “Do you think that Damien and I will be allowed any time alone after last night?”

“Do you want my honest opinion?” Patton asked, turning back to the food, “Or are you looking for reassurance?”

“Are they not the same thing?” Roman asked.

“Not necessarily,” Patton said. “They’re not polar opposites, but I might give you a different answer than the one you want.”

“I’d rather have your honest opinion,” Roman sighed. “Better to be realistic.”

“I think that if you want time alone with Damien, you’re going to have to pander to your mother a lot more. You’re going to have to pull the thickest wool you have over her eyes without her realizing it’s there. That’s going to take some impressive acting. Everyone in this castle except her is on your side, and almost everyone knows that you’re still transgender no matter what you do to convince your mother otherwise. Those who don’t know are those who might give the game away. But rest assured, Roman, we all want you to be yourself, whoever that might be,” Patton said.

Roman offered Patton a small smile. Virgil walked back into the room. “His mother was coming this way but I convinced her to look for him in his room first,” Virgil said. “You might still have to eat fast, unfortunately, Roman.”

“It’s okay,” Roman said, as the toaster dinged and Patton got everything on a plate. “I’m used to eating fast or on the go.”

Patton guided Roman to a clean counter, and all three of them sat down, Roman taking a big bite of his breakfast. He hoped Damien was okay. He hoped Damien had eaten this morning. Was the Queen serious when she had said that he wasn’t eating or sleeping well? Was that because of the wedding, or something more sinister? Roman wanted nothing more than to run to Damien’s room immediately after he finished breakfast and make sure he would be fine.

“Calm down, Roman, you look like you saw a ghost,” Virgil said.

“Hm?” Virgil asked, glancing up from his sandwich.

“Deep breaths,” Virgil said. “It sounds stupid, but they actually work. Damien will be fine. I promise you that. If for no other reason than because he has to spar with me later today as part of his exercise routines, and I will give him something to focus on that isn’t you or himself.”

“And that something would be a sword to the throat, wouldn’t it?” Patton asked with an amused smirk.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Patton,” Virgil scoffed. “Swordplay was last week, and we don’t do repeats. We’re grappling this week. Classic hand-to-hand combat.”

Roman snickered. “Oh, that would be a sight to see.”

“You’re welcome to watch, if you want,” Virgil said. “We do it early afternoon, usually fifteen minutes after Damien has lunch. If you want to see Damien in nothing more than what he  _ has _ to wear for exercise, then by all means, make up an excuse to come outside.”

“As if I’d need an actual excuse, when I can just say I’m dragging him back inside for wedding planning,” Roman pointed out. “But yeah, I’d love to watch his butt get kicked.”

Virgil smirked. “You know, he kinda likes that.”

“What? Getting his butt kicked?” Roman asked dubiously.

“Well, he  _ is _ a masochist...” Virgil said in a false-innocent tone. “I should know. I’m the one who found out about his bruises the first time he tried it with a partner.”

Roman nearly choked on his breakfast. “So  _ that’s _ what he meant by ‘a  _ new _ kink,’ oh god.” Roman laughed. “Well, that will be interesting.”

“You two gonna play around on your wedding night?” Patton asked with a wink.

Roman was turning red and he tried his best to finish breakfast without dying of laughter or embarrassment. “I don’t know,” Roman said.

“I mean, it’s  _ bound _ to happen one way or another, your hands are as good as  _ tied,” _ Patton said, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Okay, guys, please, I appreciate the information, but I do need to finish breakfast,” Roman said. “And before anything like that happens, we would need to have some very long, lengthy talks. I’m not about to hurt him in ways he doesn’t want just because we forgot to go over something.”

“Spoken like a good partner,” Virgil said, raising an imaginary glass and tilting his head towards Roman. “Major props.”

Roman shook his head in slight exasperation and finished his breakfast as fast as he could. As he was swallowing the last bite of his sandwich, his mother burst into the kitchen. “Veronica! There you are!”

“Ah, Your Majesty, I was just about to get you,” Virgil said, turning towards her and giving her a placating smile. “Turns out that your daughter was just getting breakfast after sleeping in.”

Roman stood with a sigh and offered his mother a weak wave. “Is there something you need, Mother?”

“I needed to talk to you,” his mother said. Roman’s heart leapt into his throat as she said, “It’s about last night.”

“Yeah?” Roman asked, forcing his hands to not tremble.

“I would appreciate us being able to speak somewhere private,” his mother said.

“All right,” Roman said. “Thank you for breakfast, Patton, it was truly delicious.”

“I’m glad, Your Highness,” Patton said with a small smile. He mouthed  _ Good luck _ when Roman’s mother glanced at her phone and Roman just nodded.

“Come with me, Veronica,” his mother instructed.

Roman resisted the urge to roll his eyes and followed his mother out of the kitchen, and she took him to the day room where the Queen was apparently waiting. “Did you find her, Diana?” she asked.

“In the kitchen, Rose,” his mother said.

“Have a seat, dear,” the Queen said to Roman.

Roman did as he was told, resisting the urge to fidget. “What’s going on?” Roman asked.

“We need to talk about what happened last night, dear,” the Queen said. “You’re not in trouble, we just want to talk about it.”

“Okay...?” Roman said, heart still pounding.

“I have been thinking,” the Queen said. “And while I do see your mother’s argument, Damien had a point as well. He shouldn’t have tried to prove that point the way he did, but it’s undeniable that he whole-heartedly believes that you are transgender.”

“I mean, what can I say?” Roman asked. “I didn’t tell him that. My mother is the one who brought it up in the first place.”

“We know,” the Queen said. “But you deserve to have your side of the story heard as well. And I wish to hear your side.”

Roman’s heart hammered in his chest. How was he to explain his side and make his mother happy?

“Diana, I need you to promise that you won’t interject during this,” the Queen said, and Roman was stunned. “If we are to hear both sides, we can’t have anyone shouting.”

His mother looked about as stunned as Roman felt. “You want to feed into her delusion?” she asked.

“Of course not,” the Queen said. “But I also want to determine if this is a delusion at all.”

His mother showed a split second of panic before she put on an unreadable mask and said, “I suppose.”

“So...Roman,” the Queen said. “Tell us your side of the story.”

“Well, it all started out so long ago,” Roman said. “When Remus and I were children, really. I believed from the start that we were actually identical. The fact that he and I had different parts didn’t affect my opinion at all. I thought from the start that if he was a boy, then I was a boy. I never really appreciated dresses much, and I loved getting dirty and roughhousing with the guards. Even if people called me a girl, I would still think that at the very least, I was a tomboy, if not a boy outright. As I grew older, it became clear to me that was not the case. And for a while, I did believe that what I had thought as a child was just me being a child and not understanding different sexes. I assumed that I thought that because Remus was my only consistent playmate, and I wanted to fit in with him.

“But time went on, and puberty occurred, and I was dissatisfied with every single change that happened. I tried to embrace it, because everyone told me to. But bras were cumbersome, and periods hurt, and everything that happened to me just...wasn’t what I wanted, even though at that point I didn’t know what, exactly, I wanted. I questioned why my voice didn’t get deeper, like Remus’, and why I had to have breasts while he didn’t. And I spent years in denial, trying to fit in, you know? I tried to be the ‘good girl’ that everyone wanted me to be.

“I came across the word ‘transgender’ one day and...the thought just wouldn’t leave me. My experiences weren’t exactly the same as the stories I read, but...they lined up enough that it kept me awake at night thinking about it. And I wanted to experiment with a different name, maybe cut my hair short to the way I liked it as a child, just to see if this was something I truly wanted. So I went to Remus and asked him to try the different pronouns and name, and he complied. All I wanted was to see if this made more sense than what being a woman felt like.”

“And did it?” the Queen asked.

“At first, I didn’t feel too much of a difference, but after some time...maybe a week or two...if felt odd to respond to anything that  _ wasn’t _ Roman and he or him. It felt more natural than the pronouns that everyone had been using for me the rest of my life. And I took that as my sign. I was...and I  _ am _ transgender. I just...can’t see it any other way.”

The Queen nodded, and his mother stared at him, perturbed. “You never said any of this back home,” she said.

“You wouldn’t allow me to. You just yelled that I wasn’t transgender and confined me to my room,” Roman said with a shrug. “You haven’t let me explain myself since this whole argument began.”

The Queen hummed. “And you still believe that you are transgender?”

“I mean, I will admit that I may not have searched for as long a time as my mother may have wanted me to, but the surety I felt...you can’t make that up, Your Majesty. That feeling of  _ right _ was so pure and so strong, I can’t believe that I would make that up as some part of delusion.”

“The whole  _ point _ of a delusion is that you believe it to be real, Veronica,” his mother said.

“Mother...how can you still not see?” Roman asked. “Everything that I do to try and express myself...it may not be what you want for me but it makes  _ me _ happy. When I was growing up all you ever wanted me to be was happy. But now that I know what makes me happy, you’re denying me it. I know it’s hard for you, but I want to be myself. Whoever I may be.”

His mother looked more lost than ever before.

Roman sighed. “I’m happier as Roman than I could ever be as Veronica, Mother. I’m sincere about that.”

“You’re my little girl, Veronica. You can never be anything else!” his mother said.

Roman didn’t bother hiding his flinch. “Mother, you’re still not listening to me.”

“And you aren’t listening to  _ me!” _ his mother snapped.

“Mother. I’ve listened to you for over nineteen years of my life. And nothing you said about my identity ever sat right with me. I just want to see who I am outside your view of me.” Roman forced himself to stay calm. Snapping at his mother would completely cement her in her opinions.

“Diana, I’m inclined to believe...Roman,” the Queen said.

His mother looked like the Queen may as well have slapped her. “No! No, she’s my daughter, and she can never be anything else!”

“Mother—”

She glared at him and he closed his mouth with a click. “You’re my little victory, Veronica, isn’t that enough?! Isn’t it enough that I love you, and your father loves you? Why isn’t that enough for you?!”

Roman felt his patience snap. “You really want me to be your daughter?! You want me to shut up and sit down and never speak my mind, never trust you with anything ever again? Do you want to wake up ten years from now and wonder why we never speak anymore?! Because that’s what’s going to happen if you’re not careful!”

“You’re my daughter! Not my son!” his mother snapped.

Roman balled his hands into fists, standing. “You’re right about one thing: I’m not your son.”


	15. Chapter 15

His mother stared at him with wide eyes. “What?” she asked.

“I’m not your son. I’m  _ a _ son, but I’m not  _ yours. _ Not if you refuse to accept me.” Roman was crying, and he knew it, but he couldn’t stand this conversation any longer. His mother needed to know where he stood. “And you’re no mother of mine if you continue to act like this.”

The Queen stared at Roman in shock. His mother was fuming at him. In an instant, pain burst across his cheek and Roman blinked in shock, staring at his mother, who was standing there, hands trembling at her sides and tears in her eyes. “Stop this, Veronica,” she hissed. “Stop it, right now!”

“You...” words failed Roman. His own mother had just slapped him. “How can you convince yourself you’re in the right after you  _ hit me _ for not being who you want me to be?”

“Diana, sit down,” the Queen said, standing up. An unspeakable fire was in her eyes and she actually  _ glared _ at Roman’s mother. “Speaking to you as one mother to another, as one  _ friend _ to another, there is never,  _ ever _ a good reason to slap your own child. Sit down.  _ Now.” _

Roman watched in shock as his mother turned to the Queen, and still tried to argue her point. “She’s wrong! She needs to learn that  _ I _ know what’s best for her!”

The Queen was unmoved. “Sit. Down.”

“But she—”

“—Diana,” the Queen seethed. “You never. Ever.  _ Ever. _ Hit your own child. For any reason. Sit down, and  _ calm down, _ before I have the guards escort you elsewhere.”

To Roman’s mild surprise, his mother sat down. The Queen approached him. “Are you okay, dear?”

“Fine, I think,” Roman said. He barely registered he was shaking, and he knew he was probably dissociating, but he had just been slapped by his own mother, so he was going to cut himself some slack.

“Okay,” the Queen breathed. “That’s good. If you need anything, dear, come to me. It doesn’t matter if that is ice or a listening ear. I’m here for you. Always. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you earlier.”

Roman nodded, still shaking.

His mother hissed, “Veronica, if you do not stop this instant, we  _ will _ be going home. And you will not be allowed to talk to your friends, or your brother, or anyone, until you acknowledge that you are a  _ woman.” _

Roman could feel himself freeze. As much as he still was hesitant at the thought of getting married, here he was surrounded by people who respected him. He knew that if he was sent home, that wouldn’t be the case. He would be confined to his room for the rest of time, and nowhere in this would he get a say in what happened, what he wanted, how he felt. His shaking increased.

He turned to his mother, who was still glaring at him. “You want me to be Veronica so badly?” he asked. “Then fine. I’ll be Veronica. I’ll let you use that name and I’ll let you use she and her on me, and I’ll let you get me hitched and we can see how well this disaster goes. But don’t think for one second that you’ve won. I will not be speaking to you unless you speak to me first, and even then, I’ll only talk when  _ I _ want to. I’ll be your ‘precious daughter’ in name only. But after all, that’s all that ever mattered to you, isn’t it? You don’t care if I’m miserable or not, you just want me to sit still and look pretty.”

“Roman, you don’t have to—”

“—Yes, I do,” Roman said. “You may be a friend of my mother’s, Your Majesty, but you don’t know the depths of her depravity. If she wants me to be locked away in a tower for the rest of my life because I refuse to listen to her, then that’s what she will make sure happens. And I refuse to have that be my life. So I will go by Veronica. It hurts, and it is not who I am. But if it means I get to leave my room, then that’s what I’ll do.”

His mother stood with a huff. “Don’t be like that, Veronica. You’ll see soon enough that this is the life you truly prefer.” And with that, she left the room.

Roman and the Queen stared after her. “That is not how I hoped this meeting would go,” the Queen sighed. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this, Roman.”

“I mean, I expected my mother to take the news poorly.  _ This _ poorly was not in the plans, but it is what it is. I’ll go by Veronica for as long as it takes to get to the wedding, and then I’m free to be whoever I wish. I sincerely hope she wouldn’t stoop so low as to object to the marriage.”

The Queen sighed. “Is it all right if I hug you?”

Roman nodded, and the Queen embraced him tightly. He returned the hug desperately, willing himself to stay calm. “My mother is merely walking off the worst of her anger,” he informed the Queen. “She’ll likely come back and make some unreasonable demand or another, which I’ll agree with for the time being because it will keep her quiet. She’s going to do all she can to ensure that I still wear a dress at the wedding, and that everyone addresses me as Veronica. No matter how I actually feel. She’s convinced that if I go along with it long enough I will eventually think it’s true. Well, I tried that for nineteen years, and I can say with absolute certainty it won’t work.”

The Queen laughed, but her eyes were sad. “I was hoping she might see sense, and actually use your name if she saw where you were coming from. Instead, she decided to take it as a personal attack, and I am very sorry that she assaulted you because of it. That is my fault, and I’m horrified that she would react that way.”

“I suppose my saying ‘you get used to it’ would not help?” Roman asked weakly.

“No, it wouldn’t,” the Queen said. “But thank you for trying to make me feel better.”

Roman offered her a small smile. “For what it’s worth, I don’t hold this against you. And my mother may be many things, but she is not intuitive when it comes to how I feel. If I fake smiles and laughter long enough around people using my deadname, she’ll be convinced that it doesn’t bother me any more. And as long as she believes that, we can still get me out of that horrid situation at the end of the week.”

“True,” the Queen said. “Still, you have my sincerest apologies. I felt that I wasn’t doing enough to support you, but when I tried to persuade your mother...this happened.”

Roman shrugged. “I appreciate the attempt, Your Majesty. I know you’re caught between a rock and a hard place with this.”

The Queen sighed. “You shouldn’t have to worry about how I feel with this, Roman. Your comfort should be your top priority. The fact that you protested your mother trying to force you back into the closet is very brave. I know that Damien would be impressed with you as well. The fact that you continue to try and find the silver lining even when your mother is essentially shoving you into a mold and hoping you’ll stay is not something most people I know would do. And I know for a fact that Damien likes that sort of thing, if you ever wish to attempt and court him properly after you marry.”

Roman turned cherry red. “I mean, getting to go on dates with him would be nice. I feel like marrying him  _ before _ dating him seems a bit backwards, but hey, who am I to judge?”

The Queen laughed, and Roman offered her a hesitant grin. His nerves were shot, but the Queen was helping him calm down, even if she was teasing him about Damien. And Roman knew that he’d be getting a lot of teasing surrounding Damien, so he was glad that at least the Queen was kind about it.

His mother reentered the room, and Roman’s face turned impassive. He wasn’t going to give his mother the time of day. He sat back down in his chair and pulled out his phone, idly flipping through it, hoping for a distraction from the elephant in the room.

“Veronica,” his mother hissed. “Look at me.”

Roman gave her a glance before looking back at his phone.

“Veronica,” his mother pressed. “Pay attention to me.”

“I can hear you just fine while looking at my phone,” Roman said flatly. “What are your demands?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Veronica, I don’t have any demands!” his mother scoffed.

“Anything you’re about to say will be an order directed towards me, and yes, that  _ is _ a demand. Get it over with and tell me. Although I warn you, if your order is to make me stand still while you slap me again, that is one order I will be disobeying.”

His mother growled, but Roman didn’t give her the satisfaction of flinching. He was tired, exhausted really, and he wanted his mother to be done with this whole charade of pretending to care about him.

“You will not be telling anyone else about your delusion,” his mother growled. “And you’re not going to let anyone call you by that name. I don’t want to hear anyone call you by a name other than Veronica, clear? You are a woman, and you must act like it.”

“Is that all?” Roman asked.

“No,” his mother said stiffly. “You must insist to Damien that you are a woman. I don’t want him thinking that he was right in all this.”

“Diana—” the Queen cut in, “If Roman is indeed a man, which I am inclined to believe, doing all this will merely hurt him. And I know Damien was out of line last night, but—”

“—I will not have  _ anyone _ here feeding into her delusion!” his mother exclaimed. “Be that you, your son, or anyone who works here! Honestly, Rose, I would have thought you of all people would see through Veronica’s act!”

“I don’t believe it is an act,” the Queen said, lips thinned into a line.

Roman sighed, flipping through his phone still. “You’re lucky that I’m such a good actor, Mother,” he said idly. “I just might be able to convince Damien to not slap you on sight, despite this conversation. And don’t believe it won’t get back to him, you of all people should know how your voice carries and how likely workers are to talk.”

His mother snarled and Roman looked up at her, decidedly nonplussed with her behavior. “Listen. I can tell Damien to call me Veronica all I want, but at the end of the day, he’s his own person. He’ll do what he wants. Do you really wish to punish me for another’s actions?”

“If you’re such a good actor, surely you can convince him that you were mistaken and he will respect your decision to be yourself. Veronica, not Roman.”

It took everything Roman had in him to not scoff or laugh in his mother’s face. “Whatever,” he said, glancing up at his mother before going back to his phone.

A thick silence hung over the three of them for a moment. Roman wished that he had the forethought to get Damien’s phone number. He had assumed that because they would be in the same castle for the week that he wouldn’t have reason to have Damien’s number yet. But now, he was cut off from all contact with Damien, and he couldn’t even text like he could with Remus. But he hadn’t, so he was stuck without anyone to text, as his mother knew Remus’ text alert on Roman’s phone, and she’d rat them out to their father. And then both Roman  _ and _ Remus would be getting in boiling hot water.

But the moment passed, the Queen sighed, and Roman stayed on his phone, but glanced up at her with a question in his eyes. “Shall we move to a less...explosive topic of discussion?” she asked.

“Please,” Roman said, locking his phone. “Is your family coming over to visit again before the wedding?”

“Some of them might individually visit, but yesterday was the only day they all could come at once, I’m afraid,” the Queen said. “Did you like visiting with them?”

“Jemma was very nice,” Roman said with a nod. “I liked getting to talk to her. I might not get to do that again before the wedding, but she seemed rather kind, and she helped settle my nerves about the big day on top of that.”

“I’m glad she could help,” the Queen said, a small, sad smile on her face.

Roman offered her a smile back, one that almost reached his eyes. “So, I guess there’s more wedding planning to be had? Is there anything I have to do by myself?”

“Well, Damien agreed to do his half of the music selection for dancing by the end of the day, so you should prepare some songs as well, and then of course, you have to decide on vows,” the Queen said.

Roman nearly choked. The vows. Oh, god, he forgot about the vows. He had hoped he would get out of that via using the traditional ones, but of course his mother had insisted he find “something personal” despite never meeting Damien personally before two days ago. He was going to wait until he had actually met Damien to think of something, but now the wedding was in four days, and he still had nothing. “I forgot about the vows,” he admitted sheepishly. “I have nothing prepared.”

The Queen laughed a little and said, “It’s quite all right, dear, Damien has been fretting over them for days and has yet to find anything suitable. You both will be panicking together.”

Roman laughed, though it sounded strained even to his own ears. “As for the music, I listen to just about anything, and will dance to  _ actually _ anything. I’d prefer pop or rock, but I’m not picky about artists, songs, anything like that.”

“Noted,” the Queen said. “Perhaps you and Damien can compare his list to see if that sparks any ideas for you later today.”

“We could always go over it sooner, I can go find him...” Roman said hopefully.

But the Queen shook her head. “Much as I know you might want to talk to Damien, dear, he needs to know what he did last night was not acceptable, and that means holding to his punishment. After lunch, you can speak with him.”

“You know, by punishing him like that, you’re punishing me, too,” Roman said, unable to keep the sullen tone out of his voice.

“Well considering that you  _ also _ ran out in the middle of dinner, Veronica, that seems suitable,” his mother said.

Roman bit back a snarl. “Just because I don’t do what you want me to, is not reason to punish me. Or does my mere existence offend you?”

“Of course it doesn’t!” his mother snapped.

“So long as I listen to you? You seemed rather offended that I tried to be myself back home. That’s why we’re in this castle in the first place,” Roman said.

His mother, apparently unwilling to go another round with Roman, turned to the Queen. “Rose, you haven’t been using Veronica’s name.”

The Queen blinked. “Well, you don’t appear to use his name either,” she said simply.

Roman barked a laugh before clapping a hand over his mouth as he shook. His mother glared at him but Roman was in too much shock to care.

“She is stuck in a delusion and I don’t need you feeding into it! Even by refraining from using a name, you’re hurting her!”

“I mean, technically, she’s not wrong?” Roman said. “Although not for the reasons she’s arguing. When someone refuses to use my actual name, even if they don’t use my deadname, it does sting. Although because you’re avoiding it not out of malice, but out of necessity, I think I can give you a pass.”

The Queen said, “I do appreciate that, dear.”

“You must use her name once in a while,” his mother seethed. “She needs to know who she is.”

“I believe he already knows,” the Queen said simply. “And you’re not willing to listen to him. Honestly, Diana, if you’re this certain that he’s not who he says he is then why haven’t you taken him to a doctor, rather than bringing him here?”

“She doesn’t need medication, she needs someone who can set her back on the straight and narrow naturally!” his mother hissed.

“That means she’s worried the doctors would agree with me,” Roman said with a snort.

The Queen gave Roman a sympathetic look. “Well, it seems like we’re at an impasse,” she said. “I’m on Roman’s side, and Diana, you refuse to change your mind.”

His mother was fuming. “Don’t make me cancel this wedding,” his mother threatened. “Don’t make me start a war.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you feel better about this situation?” the Queen asked.

His mother shrugged. “Promise me you’ll use Veronica’s proper name. The one  _ I _ gave her.”

The Queen glanced at Roman, and Roman’s stomach sank. He knew that the Queen had to agree. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I won’t hold it against you.”

Reluctantly, the Queen nodded. “Fine,” she said. “I won’t like it, but fine. Anything else?”

“Promise me you won’t let Veronica make needless alterations to her body,” his mother said.

Roman’s hands balled into fists.

The Queen minutely flinched. “I promise,” she sighed.

His mother perked up considerably. “I need to make a call to my husband, but I’ll be right back,” she promised.

She left the room, no doubt to tell his father about the good news. The Queen turned to Roman and murmured, “Good thing you  _ need _ HRT and whatever surgeries you’re comfortable with to alleviate dysphoria.”

Roman sat there in shock for a moment, before he grinned. “Good thing indeed,” he said.

“While your mother’s gone, should we talk briefly about the wedding?” the Queen asked.

“Sure,” Roman agreed.


	16. Chapter 16

“So, in terms of vows, I assume your mother didn’t want to go the traditional route, if you have nothing planned,” the Queen said.

“Yeah,” Roman sighed. “This is the one thing she apparently doesn’t want to be traditional, and I hate it. Does she really think I know Damien enough for personalized vows?”

“I have no doubt she wants other people to believe that, regardless of whether or not it’s true,” the Queen said. “Do you want a few minor facts about Damien that might help everything feel a bit more personal?”

“That might help,” Roman agreed. “I mean, I know he’s a klutz, and I know he can sing and dance surprisingly well for a klutz, and I know he likes philosophy, but...honestly that’s about it.”

“You also are aware of his orientation,” the Queen pointed out. “He told me he told you.”

“Ah, yeah, I know that too,” Roman said, cheeks tinged pink.

The Queen nodded. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to know? Do you have anything in mind for vows?”

“Not really,” Roman admitted. “I have no clue what I would say. Even if he’s cute and funny and I like him, is that enough for vows?”

“Honestly? If you know how to spin it right, that might be just enough,” the Queen said with a little smile. “Just speak from the heart and you should be fine. I told Damien to do the same. He turned red and whined that it would be embarrassing.”

“He’s not wrong,” Roman said, turning redder. “Admitting that I have a crush on him in front of easily a hundred people?”

“That’s what weddings are all about, really,” the Queen said. “Telling the person you love that you love them.”

“I still don’t even know if what I like him as is anything more than a crush,” Roman protested.

“Well, you just have to sell people onto the idea that you love him more than that for half a day. After that the two of you can be whoever you want to be, and however close you want to be. It sounds more difficult than it actually is. If you act the way you act around him now when you’re at the wedding, no one will doubt that the two of you are in love,” the Queen said.

“Ugh, is it that obvious I like him?” Roman asked.

The Queen laughed. “I’m afraid so, dear.”

Roman sighed. “Okay, okay, not the point. How do I make myself sound grateful for him being an escape without flat-out saying he’s my escape?”

“You let me forget about my responsibilities for a moment, you make me feel like we’re the only two people in the world, you give me hope for a brighter future?” the Queen offered.

Roman nodded, “Ooh, that’s good. Do you mind if I write that down?”

“Go ahead,” the Queen said.

Roman typed those options dutifully onto his phone, along with the bullet points that Damien was funny, cute, and that Roman liked him. He stared at his phone in consternation. “I don’t know what else I can do for vows,” he complained, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m a disaster. I have no clue what I’m going to say.”

“You’ll figure something out, Roman, I believe in you,” the Queen said.

Roman’s mother walked back in and Roman continued staring at his phone, chewing his lower lip lightly. “What’s going on here?” Roman’s mother asked.

“Planning for vows,” the Queen said. “Apparently, it’s a difficult practice on such short notice.”

“Well, I have no doubt that you had months to plan yours,” Roman said to the Queen. “I have four days and the pressure is officially on.”

The Queen laughed lightly and said, “If you need any more help, dear, all you have to do is ask.”

Roman sighed. “I’m just really tired. I want this all over and done with.”

“Ah, now that I completely understand,” the Queen said with a little smile. “This will be over before you know it, though.”

“Enjoy the moment, Veronica. You’ll miss this time before you know it,” his mother told him.

_ Doubtful, _ Roman thought. “Aside from vows and music, is there anything else I should do?” he asked.

“I can’t immediately think of anything that you can do on your own,” the Queen said. “Diana? Anything you can think of?”

“No, nothing comes to mind,” his mother sighed. “However, I do imagine that we should talk about the night of the wedding itself, and what we plan for that.”

“I, for one, do not anticipate us having sex,” Roman said, raising his hand. “For whatever that is worth.”

The Queen’s lips quirked upwards. “That’s quite all right, dear. My husband and I were figuring that you and Damien might be heading away to your honeymoon that night, anyway. I don’t know how well you can sleep on a plane, but rest assured, if you’re not comfortable with anything Damien won’t pressure you into it.”

Roman nodded. He had figured Damien wouldn’t pressure him either way, but it was nice to hear confirmation. However... “Travelling all night sounds somewhat unpleasant, as I can’t sleep well on planes. Would it be possible to instead plan for it to be early morning?”

“Of course! First thing in the morning, the day after the wedding, you and Damien can head off on your honeymoon,” the Queen said. “You two will have a lot of fun, wherever you decide to go.”

Roman offered her a smile. “It should be nice to just get to relax for a week or so after all of this.”

The Queen nodded. “Any idea where you’d want to go?” she asked.

“The Carribean is always nice,” Roman said with a shrug. “But I’ve also always wanted to explore Rome.”

“Both of those do sound nice,” the Queen agreed. “Talk it over with Damien this afternoon. It could be that the two of you have always wanted to visit the same place and you can make plans.”

Roman nodded. He checked the time and realized with shock that it was about noon. “Wow, time flies,” he said. “Almost time for lunch already.”

The Queen looked to the clock in the room and agreed, “So it is. Anything you’d like for lunch?”

“Everything Patton makes is delicious, I’m not picky,” Roman said with a shrug.

The Queen nodded. “Diana? Any requests?”

“Not particularly,” his mother said. “Perhaps he could make a few things that he was anticipating might be requested for the wedding? Get an idea of what the reception’s food could be?”

The Queen hummed. “Good idea,” she said. “I’ll go speak to him, I’ll be back in a minute.”

But before Roman could protest her leaving, she was gone, leaving him and his mother alone. He narrowly avoided visibly cringing and returned to his phone, flipping through his apps, praying for something to keep him occupied.

“Veronica,” his mother hissed softly. “You have some explaining to do!”

“If you’re referring to the Queen’s questions this morning, I was merely being honest in my answers,” he said smoothly. “You’re the one who told me to always be honest, Mother. I don’t know why you’re so upset about it in this one particular instance.” He understood it was because he was trans, but he didn’t understand why this was the hill his mother was willing to die on.

“You are  _ not _ a transgender, Veronica, how many times do I have to tell you this?” his mother hissed.

Roman rolled his eyes and closed them, praying for more patience. It didn’t appear that he was going to get any soon. “Okay,  _ first _ of all? You’ve been using the word ‘transgender’ wrong. It is  _ not _ a noun. It’s an  _ adjective. _ I am not ‘a’ transgender, I  _ am _ transgender. And I really wish you would at least use it correctly in your ignorance. I know it’s wishful thinking, but honestly, I’m so sick and tired of all of this. I just want you to accept me. You don’t even have to love me anymore. Just accept who I am. But no, that’s never going to happen, because of  _ course _ it won’t. You’re too blinded by your prejudice to see that this is how I can be my happiest, most authentic self.”

His mother snarled at him and Roman didn’t even feel like crying, he was so numbed to her rejection. “Look, you can love me. Or don’t. But don’t pretend to love me when you actually love the  _ concept _ that you’ve built around me and expect me to live up to. That’s just not fair,” Roman said.

“I love you for who you are, Veronica. I  _ know _ this is just a phase, and I want you to realize that too!” his mother snapped.

“Why would I willingly go through a phase that would leave me ostracized, locked away in my room, unable to talk to my friends, and distanced from my own family? No, really, Mother, why would I do that?! I didn’t choose to be like this, but I’m trying to make myself happy! That’s all I’ve ever been trying to do! And yet you refuse to see that! You refuse to entertain the idea that you might be wrong! That I know more about myself than you do! Why are you so insistent that I wind up hating the person I once was? I was perfectly okay with the concept of being mistaken when I thought I was a woman until you started shoving your own agenda on me! Now I feel like I have to have known I was trans from the beginning, because that way, maybe you would have accepted me!” Roman shook his head. “You’re making me hate my past more than I ever could have without your help. Don’t be surprised if I never talk about my childhood whenever you come to visit, to make sure I’m listening to your asinine rules! I just wish...” he trailed off. “I just wish that maybe you had a shred of empathy.”

His mother growled and Roman shook his head. “No. I’m not playing this game. I’m not listening to your side of the argument, when you’re so clearly wrong and refuse to see my side. If you don’t respect me, I won’t respect you. That’s how this works. Enjoy lunch. I anticipate I won’t be talking to you for the duration of it.”

And with that, he went back to his phone. His mother was fuming, but she said nothing. And Roman knew that what he had said wasn’t wise, but he had reached the end of his rope. Besides, his mother couldn’t confine him to his guest room here, at least, and she wouldn’t want to send him back home for “acting up” only a little bit, because that would raise too many questions. So he was safe. For now.

The Queen walked back in the room and looked between them. “For what it’s worth, I am glad that neither of you set anything on fire while I was gone,” she said with a completely straight face.

Roman burst out laughing hard enough that tears were springing to his eyes.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry!” he gasped. “That just—I mean—I think...” he trailed off into more laughter. “That struck me as funny.”

The Queen offered Roman a tiny smirk. “Patton will be bringing in samples of food he can make for the wedding shortly. He’s very relieved that we’re trying to make a decision today.”

“I’ll bet,” Roman said. “Damien and I had told him we hadn’t come to a decision and he said it was fine, but I’m sure he was a little stressed that we might be making a decision the morning of and he’d be left scrambling.”

“Probably,” the Queen agreed. “Patton does worry over perfection, even if it can’t be achieved. He would certainly be stressed if you only gave him a few hours and no chance to test the food beforehand.”

Roman nodded. “He seemed like that kind of person.”

The Queen sat down and his mother turned to her. “Rose, you never did tell me what you said to your son last night.”

“Oh,” the Queen said. “It wasn’t anything particularly noteworthy. You need to treat guests better, you need to respect others in general, sometimes no matter what you believe you need to admit that you’re wrong, that sort of thing.”

“I heard he refused to leave his room this morning, is that true?” Roman asked.

“Yes, he did refuse to leave his room, but I wouldn’t worry about it. He does that when he needs time to lick his wounds,” the Queen said, but Roman could hear the worry in her voice.

Roman’s stomach flipped. “I hope he doesn’t take too long, I would like to speak to him sometime today.”

“Logan dragged him out of his room for his studies earlier, I know because I could hear Damien’s frustrated griping as I headed here. And he works better once he has a task in front of him, he should be fine by this afternoon.”

“And I can talk to him after lunch?” Roman asked.

“You may fetch him when it’s time to plan more of the wedding and practice dancing again, yes,” the Queen said. “I can tell you’re worried about him, hopefully seeing in person that he’s all right will soothe you?”

“Yeah, hopefully,” Roman said.

Patton walked in the room, humming, and saying, “Good afternoon! I hope you three ladies are having a good day so far?”

“As good as it can be, I suppose,” Roman said noncommittally.

“Well, hopefully some of my food can cheer you up!” he said. “I have three small portions of options on each plate, one is fettuccine alfredo, one is head-breaded chicken, and the third is tilapia.”

“Thank you, Patton,” the Queen said with a smile. “I take it they’re all made the way that Damien likes them to be?”

“Since he’s not here to help decide I figured I should make three of his favorites, so he’s okay with whatever you decide,” Patton said. “Do you mind if I stay to find out what you like the most?”

“That’s fine,” Roman said.

The Queen hummed. “Which dish would you like to try first, Veronica?”

Roman shrugged, ignoring the sting of his deadname. It wasn’t like the Queen had a choice if they wanted Roman out of his parents’ house. “I’m not super picky,” he said. “I suppose we could try the tilapia?”

The three of them all took a bite of the tilapia. Roman didn’t feel super strong about it one way or the other, and he told the others as much. “I don’t hate it, but it doesn’t just seem like the kind of food I’d have at my wedding,” he said simply.

“That’s fine!” Patton chirped. “And if none of these work out, I can always find something else!”

After that, they tried the fettuccine alfredo. Roman liked this one, and he mentally decided that unless the chicken blew him away, he would choose the fettuccine.

But he tried the chicken and it well and indeed did blow him away. The breading was just the right amount of crumbly, the meat was tender. His eyes lit up and after he swallowed said, “This. This is the one.”

“Excellent choice!” Patton said. “I’ll come around later when you and Damien are both available to ask about the cake, but until then I’ll get everything ready for the chicken. What would be a vegetarian option you’d prefer?”

“Uh...I don’t know,” Roman admitted. “I’ll leave your best judgement on that, if that’s all right.”

“Perfectly fine!” Patton assured. “Enjoy the rest of your meal, I’ll be heading back to the kitchen!”

Roman turned back to the food on his plate and finished the rest of the chicken, while his mother and the Queen took their time trying the rest of the three dishes as well. When Roman had finished both the chicken and the pasta, he wiped his mouth clean with a napkin and said, “I am done with lunch, is it all right if I seek out Damien now? I can bring him to wherever we are supposed to meet next.”

The Queen sighed, but a tiny smile was playing at her lips. “Yes, dear, I imagine Damien is finished with lunch and will be outside sparring. It will be on the left hand side of the castle, do you know where the exit is from there?”

“No, but I can find it,” Roman said, standing up. “What is next on the agenda?”

“Dance practice,” the Queen informed him. “After which the tailor will give you his first fitting. And of course, we need to solidify the music choices.”

Roman nodded. “I can find Damien and we’ll head to the ballroom. Whenever you need us next feel free to come and get us.”

But before Roman could completely leave the room, his mother sent him one last warning. “Veronica, be convincing.”

Roman ignored her and kept walking down the halls in the direction he hoped would be the fastest route to Damien. He went through hall after hall, nodding to the people he passed, not missing their murmurs and the gossip about what his mother had done this morning. He felt at his cheek. Luckily, nothing seemed to be bruised, although he wasn’t sure if there was still a pink mark on his cheek or not.

He made a victorious noise when he found a doorway that led outside, sunshine spilling through as he cracked the door open. His heart leapt into his throat at the thought of seeing Damien and him being depressed or visibly upset. But he pushed those thoughts out of his mind and forced himself to keep moving forward.


	17. Chapter 17

Roman walked outside, watching Damien and another man circle each other. Roman couldn’t see the man’s face, but he figured it was Virgil after their conversation this morning. Damien looked up and saw Roman, and Roman smiled. Damien paused and stared, and in a flash the other man had slammed Damien roughly into the ground. “You must focus, Your Highness, or else you’ll die in battle faster than you can say ‘oops,’” the man said.

“You’re right, Virgil,” Damien gasped, “But how can I stay focused when I see such a beautiful smile as the one I just saw?”

Roman laughed as he walked over, and Virgil’s eyes widened, before smirking. “Well, I think that concludes our lesson for this afternoon,” he snickered. “If you need me, Your Highness, I will be working with the guards. I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

Damien nodded and waved Virgil away as he stood, smiling softly at Roman. “How are you?” he asked softly. “Is your mother driving you up the wall?”

“Only a little,” Roman laughed. “It’s better knowing that you accept me, at least.”

Damien offered Roman a genuine grin, and Roman smiled back, a little shy but still happy. “I’m glad to hear that I can make everything a little more bearable,” Damien said.

“How are  _ you?” _ Roman asked. “Patton said you weren’t leaving your room this morning.”

“Ah,” Damien said. “I spent most of the morning before I was rulely dragged out of my room by Logan considering what you said last night. And if you truly feel that your identity doesn’t suit you, I sincerely apologize for trying to force you into a mold the same as your mother was doing—”

“Damien, no!” Roman rushed to say. “No. Not only are you not my mother, I was lying last night. Just to placate my mother. I still think I’m a man. I  _ know _ I’m a man. You were right. We’re still going to have to pretend you weren’t in front of my mother but—”

“—I can lie to your mother,” Damien finished for him. “My dear, you have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that. To be uncertain in your identity is not a pleasant feeling. I, for one, am relieved that you are still sure, even if it does cause you pain in the meantime.”

Roman was more than a little taken aback. “You were genuinely worried for me,” he said, sounding somewhat mystified.

“I...yes,” Damien said, brows furrowing. “Darling, I care greatly about you.”

“I mean...yeah, I know that,” Roman said, crossing his arms and cringing when he could feel his breasts. “That doesn’t mean that everyone who cares about me does what you do.”

“In my opinion, my dear, anyone who doesn’t care about your wellbeing or your identity simply does not care about you,” Damien said firmly. “Believe me when I say that you deserve better.”

Roman’s lips quirked upward. “Aw, you’re protective of me, how cute.”

“Shut up,” Damien said with a scowl, but with no heat behind his words. “Wanting you to be treated properly is something any decent human being would want from those around you.”

“Still, I don’t have a lot of decent human beings around me. Or I didn’t, until I moved here,” Roman said with a shrug. “Did your parents really have a talk with you last night?”

“I...yes, they did,” Damien said, glancing behind Roman. “Let’s move away from prying eyes and ears, however, before we get into that.”

Roman’s heart leapt into his throat but he nodded, and Damien led him further away from the castle, towards a small-sized garden at the edge of the top of the mountain that ran a considerable way down the steep hill, covered entirely in flowers. “I was never allowed to run around the garden when I was younger,” Damien said with a laugh. “With my track record for balance, my mother was worried I’d split my head open falling halfway down the hill. But it’s good for privacy nowadays.” Damien gestured to a bench by the edge of the flowers. “By all means, please, sit.”

Roman did so and Damien joined him. “My parents did have a talk with me,” he began. “It wasn’t as bad as what your mother was probably led to believe, however. They mostly spoke about endangering  _ your _ safety, and that I needed to keep quiet about your being trans in order to maintain your status as a guest here. I argued a little, saying that if your mother could just understand where you were coming from, this whole ordeal might be a little more manageable. But my parents were adamant that the risk didn’t outweigh the reward.”

“Your mother might have reconsidered,” Roman said. “She tried to get my mother to listen to my side of the story today.”

“Did she?” Damien asked, perking up. “How did it go?”

Roman laughed awkwardly. “Believe me when I say you don’t want to know.”

Damien’s face fell, before his eyes moved from Roman’s eyes to a spot on his cheek. “You’re cut,” he said, reaching out a hand to gently run over Roman’s cheekbone. “How did that happen?”

“Ah...” Roman paused. He hadn’t even realized he might have gotten cut by his mother’s hand. “I imagine it was...uh...my mother’s ring.”

Damien’s face turned completely impassive in half a second. “She...slapped you?”

“Only once,” Roman said, cringing because he knew how pathetic that was. “But yes.”

“I’m going. To kill her. Consequences be damned, I will  _ kill _ her!” Damien growled.

Roman grabbed Damien’s hands and pleaded, “Your Highness, I know this looks bad, and yeah, it is a little, but I can’t have you killing her yet. I need her in order to get out from under her  _ and _ my father’s grasp. Please.”

“I never said it would be immediate,” Damien said, a feral fire alight in his eyes. “But I will kill them both. Ruthlessly. Efficiently. I would even go so far as to say I might enjoy it.”

Roman swallowed. “Damien, you’re scaring me.”

Damien closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “My apologies, my dear. That was not my intention. I merely want to make sure that you are safe. And your parents are not conducive to that.”

“I know,” Roman said, swallowing. “I wish it weren’t true, but unfortunately, I don’t have much of a choice in the matter. I’m in danger whenever I try to be myself around them.”

“Fortunately, you won’t be around them much longer,” Damien said. “But four days still feels like entirely too long a time.”

“I know,” Roman said. “It’s far too long to get to safety, and far too short to plan the wedding itself.”

“Indeed,” Damien hummed. “Now, I do believe we will probably need to return to the castle in the next few moments, unless we want a feral Logan chasing us around the grounds. He told me he was going to be monitoring our dance practice this afternoon.”

Roman sighed. “Yeah, I bet he will be. Will our mothers?”

“I don’t know,” Damien admitted. “That probably depends on whether or not your mother was incensed enough this morning to require a talk alone with  _ my _ mother.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Roman admitted quietly. “And I hate to say that, but it’s true.”

Damien tutted and stood, and Roman stood with him. “Well, the one perk of her going toe-to-toe with my mother is that we won’t need to worry about her being in the room, so I don’t have to deadname you.”

“True,” Roman said with a tiny smile. “That is a plus.”

“So, aside from assaulting you, what did your mother do this morning?”

“She demanded I convince you I was wrong about being transgender,” Roman said. “And honestly, she might interrogate you to figure out whatever I said. And I have no idea how to plan for that.”

“I do,” Damien said. “I would simply tell her it was a personal, private matter that I’m not comfortable sharing with her without your explicit permission.”

“Ooh, that’s good,” Roman said. “It’s not demeaning anyone, it’s diplomatic, and it means I can give any details I want to at a later date without anyone calling bullshit.”

Damien looked rather pleased with himself. “I’m glad you think it’s effective,” he said. “It’s my go-to whenever I don’t have the time to corroborate lies with anyone else.”

Roman laughed. “My whole life at the moment is one huge lie. I don’t think we have time to corroborate that entire thing. Maybe just enough for vows, but  _ everything _ would take quite a while.”

“Oh, God, the vows,” Damien laughed, opening the door to the side of the castle and letting Roman inside. “I really don’t want to think about the vows right now, my dear.”

“You have four days, you have to address it at some point,” Roman pointed out.

“True, but right now I’d rather address the fact that you consider your entire life a lie,” Damien said. “That, in my mind, is more concerning.”

Roman groaned. “Oh, do we have to do this?” he sighed. “I’m trans and in the closet. Of course my entire life will be a lie.”

“I...my dear, I know I am not trans myself, so I may be wrong, but I was under the impression that is not the case. You still enjoy art, and you have fun with me when we dance or get up to shenanigans. That is not a lie, is it?”

“Of course not!” Roman scoffed. “I do enjoy my time with you. And I like getting to create. But my name, my pronouns, a majority of my opinions? They’re all lies, just part of this performance I’ve concocted in order to feel a little better about myself and distance myself from the deadnaming and the misgendering. Really...I can only be so much of my authentic self even with you, because other people may overhear.”

“My dear...that is...” Damien struggled for words, if the furrowing of his brows was anything to go by as they walked through the halls. “That is incredibly depressing.”

Roman sighed. “I know. And this morning I did something incredibly stupid, and I tried to be myself around my mother. The  _ actual _ confidence, the fed-up-ness about everything she’s been doing to me, and all. And it felt good to be myself, somewhat, but it was offset by the fact that I couldn’t very well be my full authentic self without being sent home. And the deadnaming didn’t help either.”

Damien hummed. “Roman, I have a question for you.”

“Yeah?” Roman asked, heart skipping a beat.

“Would you be your authentic self if your mother weren’t around? And by that I mean if she weren’t a threat? If she couldn’t take you away, would you feel free to be yourself? You wouldn’t lie about who you are?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess,” Roman said with a shrug. “It wouldn’t be easy, and there might be some false starts as I try and figure out who I really am, but I would want to be my authentic self if at all possible, you know?”

“Indeed,” Damien said. “And that’s what I thought in the first place. But I wanted to make sure that was actually the case before I started what I want to do to remedy this problem.”

“Oh? And what would that be?” Roman said.

Damien glanced around the halls before murmuring, “I’m going to try and keep your mother away every spare moment we have so I can get to know the real you better.”

Roman laughed. “You severely doubt how pervasive my mother can be.”

Damien shrugged. “Perhaps. Or perhaps it’s simply that you doubt how much you can get away with if you know how to spin it right.”

“Well, you have the unfair advantage in that my mother can’t read your tells,” Roman said with an eye-roll. “She can tell I’m lying when it comes to everything except my happiness. And I think that’s more willful ignorance than anything else.”

Damien shook his head as the two of them walked into the ballroom. “My dear, I really hate your mother.”

“Everyone does,” Roman said with a bitter smile.

Damien looked around. “Did we beat Logan to the classroom for once?” he asked.

“No, you did not, Your Highness,” a voice said from behind them, and Roman turned to see Logan standing there with a small stereo. “I’ve been here, I was merely grabbing something to allow the both of you to hear the music.”

Damien tutted. “Shame. I was actually hoping that perhaps I had finally beaten you at your own game.”

Logan smirked. “Your Highness, you could never beat me.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Roman said with a grin.

“One which I would lose,” Damien sighed.

“Oh, who cares if you’d lose, half the fun is in trying, anyway,” Roman said. “Remus would absolutely  _ love _ the chance to beat a professor at his own game.”

“Remus being...?” Logan asked.

“My brother,” Roman filled in. “You might get to talk to him during the wedding. I think the two of you would get on, in that sort of ‘instant rivals’ kind of way.”

“Oh, what a visual,” Damien laughed. “Logan? Rivals with anyone?”

“I do have some capacity for rivalry,” Logan said with a shrug. “While emotions are somewhat...annoying, I do appreciate a rivalry, as it pushes both parties to better themselves. It is only when that rivalry borders obsession that it becomes a problem.”

“True,” Roman said. “But I still think you two would get on.”

“Will he be at the wedding?” Logan asked.

Roman blinked. “Duh? He’s my brother!”

“Then you can find out at the wedding. For now, the two of you must practice dancing again,” Logan said.

“Oh, that’s no fun!” Roman complained, but he laughed as Damien pulled him close and started to dance all the same.

“So, what do you imagine Logan and Remus would do? Out of curiosity,” Damien asked.

“Well, I imagine the very first thing that would happen is a prolonged staring contest,” Roman said. “Remus scrutinizing Logan, while Logan just kinda...stands there and lets Remus look him over? One of them says something snarky, the other cracks a grin or rolls their eyes, and they start to talk. Probably. Seems in character for both of them, at the very least.”

“Based on what I’ve heard of Remus Ayer, I imagine he is quite the handful,” Damien said, mischief in his eyes.

“Wait. Remus  _ Ayer?” _ Logan asked. “How did I not connect the dots? He asked for a tutor a year or so ago. I declined because I was moving here to work with Damien full-time, but he had a very promising application!”

“Oh, you could teach Remus a thing or two!” Roman said, eyes lighting up as he turned to look at Logan. “I’m sure he’d love to know any sort of gruesome fact about the human body. Sharing gritty knowledge is practically how he flirts.”

“Noted,” Logan said. “I will refrain from the macabre when he is around to prevent him thinking I am trying to woo him.”

Roman cackled and Damien was snickering. “I’d love to see the two of you go head-to-head,” Damien said. “If Remus is  _ anything _ like Roman, that would be a sight to see.”

“It really would be,” Roman agreed, and they continued to dance, Damien twirling Roman for a brief second, causing Roman to squeak and laugh. “You are the worst!” he exclaimed, taking one of his hands to whack Damien in the chest.

“Oh, come on! You know you love me!” Damien said, a teasing smile at his lips.

“I will...I will  _ kill _ you,” Roman said, his face deathly serious. “You, sir, do not get to say things like that when we’re about to be married!”

“When else am I supposed to say it?” Damien asked, biting back his grin.

“How about when we actually fall in love?” Roman shot back.

Damien paused in the dance and Roman’s face turned horrified as he realized what he said. “That seems a bit presumptuous, doesn’t it?” Damien asked, voice sounding somewhat strained.

Oh, god. Roman realized with a sinking feeling that Damien must not feel the same way. His voice said it all. He was uncomfortable with that implication. “Sorry,” Roman said. “That did not come out the way it was supposed to...”

“Clearly,” Damien said, looking like he had just swallowed a frog.

Tears were coming to Roman’s eyes as their hands dropped and Roman shrank in on himself. “I really didn’t mean for that to come out that way,” he choked out. “I...I meant like, if we were to ever fall in love. I didn’t mean it as a definite thing...”

“I would assume not,” Damien said. “One never wants to tell someone else where their attraction lies, especially without proof.”

Roman was scarlet and crying by this point, and Damien refused to look him in the eye. “I’m really,  _ really _ sorry,” Roman whispered.

“I know,” Damien said. “And...my reaction was not exactly...stellar.”

“You’re well within your rights to be uncomfortable, I really didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”

“Uncomfortable?” Damien repeated dumbly. “My dear, I—”

Roman shook his head and Damien grew quiet. “No, it’s fine, Damien, you don’t have to try and make me feel better. That was uncalled for, and I know it. I won’t bring it up again, we can just forget about it.”

“If that’s what you wish,” Damien said, brows furrowed and a slight frown on his face.

“That would be preferable,” Roman agreed. “Let’s just dance, shall we?”

Damien nodded and they started dancing again. Roman stumbled several times, and he couldn’t shake Logan’s stare at the two of them for the rest of the circle around the ballroom. Roman’s face was on fire and a few tears were still falling intermittently. When they had stopped dancing, Damien used the pad of his thumb to swipe away Roman’s tears. “Roman, there’s no need for tears,” he said. “It was a simple slip of the tongue. I’m not offended.”

“I feel like an idiot,” Roman half-laughed, voice thick with his tears.

“You’re not,” Damien said. “You simply made a joke. That’s what it was supposed to be, yes? Just a little bit of banter?”

“Yeah,” Roman said, even as he felt a part of him die inside. He wanted it to be a love confession. He wanted Damien to like him back. But no. Damien clearly wasn’t interested in him like that.

And why would he be? Sure, Roman was a man, and Damien had said as much. But Roman’s body was undeniably “female.” What gay man would want him? His body would betray him for the rest of time. Even with hormones, even with surgery, there would be parts of him that simply weren’t...masculine. And he couldn’t understand how anyone could get past that.

And so his tears kept falling. Damien lightly hugged him and Roman hugged him back desperately, wishing for the contact to never end. Because then maybe he could fool himself into hoping. Hoping that Damien could one day see past his body. That Damien could love him. Or at least, tolerate him. But if Roman made jokes about them falling in love, how could Damien ever feel comfortable around him again, let alone fall in love with him?

They broke the hug as Logan cleared his throat. “You two need to practice your dancing more,” he said simply.

Roman sniffled and nodded. “All right,” he said, getting into position and letting Damien fall into line with him.

They resumed dancing, and Damien turned to Logan, asking, “Can you put the song on the stereo?”

Logan nodded and pressed a few buttons, and their first dance filled the space of the ballroom. Damien sang softly, but with just as much heart as he had the first time they danced. Roman laughed. Despite it all, Damien could charm him into forgetting about everything he had just done. Or, not forgetting...but not worrying. No matter what, love or not, Damien would be one of Roman’s friends. And if friends were the closest they ever got, well, Roman could live with that. He would settle for friends.


	18. Chapter 18

Roman and Damien continued dancing all around the ballroom until Logan saw fit to stop them, at which point Roman felt considerably better, but not better enough to do much more than just stand around and make jokes. “Should I teach the two of you some steps to other dances for more contemporary songs?” Logan asked.

“Oh, I don’t want to think about what I’m going to have to do once the first dance is over,” Roman bemoaned.

“Think of it this way, my dear: if you know how to dance more you’re less likely to have to talk to the homophobic and transphobic parts of your family,” Damien pointed out.

“You have a point, and I hate that you have a point,” Roman sulked. “Okay. I’d go through some of the steps, once I’ve gotten a break to drink some water.”

Logan held up a finger and walked over to where he had placed the stereo down, tossing Roman a bottle of water. Roman yipped and his hands smacked the bottle a few times before he finally caught it. Damien was laughing and Logan just stared blankly at him. “I should have considered you might not be a good catcher, my apologies,” Logan said. “After all, you don’t seem to catch hints, and water bottles are not that different from the hints someone in this room has been dropping.”

“Logan,” Damien growled, and Roman was stunned. He had never heard Damien  _ growl _ quite like that before. “Don’t.”

“All right. I won’t,” Logan said simply. “I’ll let the two of you ponder over what I mean.”

Roman twisted the cap on the water bottle, breaking the seal and taking two large gulps of water before gasping as he spoke, “I know. Obviously, you’re talking about the treasure hunt that is undoubtedly going to happen when Damien remembers we have to have wedding bands.”

Damien turned as pale as a ghost. “Oh, god, oh no, oh  _ shit!” _ Damien breathed. “The wedding bands! Roman, I need your ring size, quick!”

“I...I don’t know my ring size,” Roman said, blinking and trying to bite back his laughter.

“What are we going to  _ do?!” _ Damien asked. “We  _ need _ wedding bands, but we don’t have any!”

“Relax, Damien. If our mothers don’t have a plan, we can easily go into town and get them. Maybe we can go down after my fitting and take a look at different rings, find something that both of us like?” Roman offered.

“Okay...okay...” Damien breathed. “We can do this. It’ll be okay. We can take care of this and no one has to be the wiser to the internal panic.”

“Internal?” Roman asked with a smirk. “Damien, your panic seems pretty external to me.”

“Shush,” Damien said, scowling and pointing a finger at Roman, but not looking at him. “I am not debating you when I’m this stressed.”

Roman whistled and looked at Logan, who appeared just as surprised as Roman felt. “Your Highness, it’s all right,” he said hesitantly. “Everything will be fine. I’m sure that your mother has plans to find the perfect rings for the two of you. She was talking to me about jewelers the other day, in fact. Deep breaths.”

Damirn took one deep breath, then another, and then a third. “All right,” he breathed. “All right. I’ll try to remain calm. Being in a panic won’t help anyone anyway.”

Logan nodded. “Now, I do believe that Roman has his fitting in a couple minutes.” Roman’s stomach flipped. “Which means I might conclude our dance practice for now and make the two of you practice more later tonight. Damien, do you want to walk Roman to the room Remy is using?”

“Oh, uh, I can walk by myself...” Roman said weakly. “It’s not a problem, if Remy is right where he was the last time.”

Damien looked somewhat shocked. “Are you sure? I  _ can _ walk you, my dear, it would be no trouble...”

“I’m sure,” Roman said with a nod and a smile. “I don’t want you to have to worry about me making any more jokes in poor taste. I can walk by myself and give you time alone to worry about the rings and the like.”

“My dear, if you’re trying to get rid of me, it won’t work,” Damien said with a slight smile. “It’s okay if you make a joke or two. I rather appreciate your kind of humor.”

“Are you sure? I mean, when I tried to make a joke about love, that definitely...fell flat,” Roman said.

“It didn’t fall flat, I simply wasn’t expecting it, my dear,” Damien said smoothly. “I did appreciate the fact that you were trying to make the best out of the situation we’re in.”

Roman’s stomach settled a fraction, but he still felt uneasy. He knew that Damien could never love him because of Roman’s body. And Damien wasn’t revealing anything about his feelings towards Roman, good or bad, so Roman had to assume that Damien merely felt neutral about their relationship. A good friend, perhaps, but nothing more. No matter how much Roman may want them to be more.

Damien offered his hand to Roman. “Come on, my dear, allow me the pleasure of walking you to Remy?”

Roman reluctantly took Damien’s hand and Damien walked him out of the ballroom and down the hallways. Roman sighed. His stomach was still flipping, and every time he looked at Damien he felt worse. Damien seemed like the picture perfect prince. Someone who didn’t mind Roman’s jokes, who didn’t mind getting dirty but was still a perfect gentleman when the time called for it. And honestly, Roman could see himself falling in love with Damien naturally, if they had met casually. But Damien could never feel the same, and it made Roman feel miserable.

Damien squeezed Roman’s hand. “I can hear the wheels turning in your head, my dear,” Damien said. “Everything will be all right, understand? We’ll get you out of your house and you can be whoever you want to be. And I have no doubt that Remy will make the suit you’re going to wear positively stunning.”

Roman offered Damien a weak smile. “Thank you,” he said.

“That’s not what you’re worried about?” Damien asked, frowning.

Damn it, Damien was perceptive. “No, not right now,” Roman admitted.

“What seems to be troubling you, my dear?” Damien asked, looking Roman over.

“The problem is that he has the hots for you and you can’t see it, babes!” Remy called from down the hallway.

Damien scoffed a, “Please,” and Roman felt ten times more miserable. That just confirmed his suspicions. Damien was disgusted at the thought of Roman being attracted to him. Roman had half a mind to cry, but he bit back his tears the best he could. Now was not the time to cry. He needed to wait until Damien was gone, or else Roman would admit that he loved Damien and Damien would have to confirm that while trying to comfort Roman. And Roman didn’t want to put either of them through that pain.

Damien sighed and turned to Roman. “I’m afraid this must be where I leave you, my dear. My parents wanted the suit to be a surprise for me,” Damien said. “But my mother is undoubtedly in the room, and we shouldn’t leave her waiting.”

Roman gave Damien another weak smile and a nod. “I’ll see you after the fitting,” he said. “We have some things to plan for the wedding, after all.”

Damien offered a strained smile and a nod. “And we’ll figure out what to do about the wedding bands,” he said.

“Yes, we will,” Roman agreed. “Deep breaths, Damien. Everything will be all right. You said so yourself.”

“Boys, stop being gay and let me get Roman in his suit!” Remy groaned.

Roman laughed and walked away from Damien, towards Remy, tossing a wave and a wink over his shoulder. Damien raised his hand up in a tiny wave and walked back down the hall. Roman groaned as he walked into the room Remy was using. “I realized something, Remy: I’m completely screwed.”

Remy sighed. “Saw it coming, babes. Everyone knows you’re hopelessly in love.”

“Well, hopeless is right,” Roman sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The Queen was in the room, standing in front of a mannequin, observing it. “Roman, everyone in this castle knows you’re in love with my son aside from my son himself. Don’t even bother arguing that you’re not in love.”

“Never said I wasn’t,” Roman said with a shrug. “Just said I’m hopeless.”

“Okay, why are you hopeless?” the Queen said, turning to glance at Roman.

Roman crossed his arms and made a noncommittal noise, hunching his shoulders. He certainly didn’t want to admit what he was thinking, regardless of how true it was. He didn’t want to paint Damien as a transphobe.

“Babes, if you’re having body issues, I guarantee I can help with some of that dysphoria with the suit I’ve put together,” Remy said.

Roman sighed. “Am I that easy to read?” he lightly groused.

“Only a little,” Remy said with a shrug. “Your Majesty, do you mind letting me show His Highness the suit?”

“Of course not,” the Queen said, backing away from the mannequin and letting Roman get a good look at the suit.

Roman couldn’t help it; he stared. The suit was a pristine white, exactly like a bride’s dress would be, but that wasn’t what was giving him pause. Across the suit’s chest was gold frill and trim, with a bright red sash cutting across it from the right shoulder to the left hip. On each side of the arms, there was Roman’s family’s crest, the castle under the sun. He grinned when he saw it. “Wow, this is great,” he said. “I love the work you put into it.”

“I’m glad, babes, but I need to know it fits you, too,” Remy said. “D’you mind putting it on before you say anything else?”

“That’s fine,” Roman said, walking over to the suit and pulling at his T-shirt to get it off without much of a second thought. He glanced at the Queen and offered her a small smile. “You don’t mind my stripping in front of you, right?”

“It’s necessary to put on the suit, so I’ll allow it in this instance,” the Queen said with a playful smile.

Roman took off his bra and put on the top of the suit, recognizing the shortness of breath he got from a binder. “Is the binder sewn into the material?” he asked.

“That it is, babes, and that was not easy, lemme tell you,” Remy said. “But I figured we should probably have it built in just in case. And I made sure to give it just enough room that if you got wet, you wouldn’t suffocate.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Roman said with a little grin.

“Let’s get you into the rest of the suit and in front of a mirror,” Remy said.

“Okay, okay!” Roman said, holding his hands up in surrender. He changed out of the skirt he had been forced into today and changed into the suit pants. Remy walked over and dramatically flipped the mirror the mannequin had been next to, so the back of the mirror was no longer facing him, and Roman got a proper look at himself in it. His jaw dropped and he gawked, unable to help himself. “Woah,” he breathed.

His chest looked completely flat when he turned to the side. Tears were pricking his eyes and he brought a hand to his mouth, grin threatening to split his face in two. “I love it,” he said.

Remy walked around him, gently yanking on the material, smoothing this and that and looking at him from every angle. “And everything seems to be a perfect fit, which is promising,” he said. “This is good.”

“It also means that we have a good portion of the afternoon now free,” the Queen said with a grin. “Because we had to allow for the possibility of Remy taking hours to tweak. But since everything was done right the first time, we have more time before our next meeting with anyone important. Which means it’s time to look into rings at the jeweler’s.”

“Oh, yeah, Damien and I talked about that during our dance practice,” Roman said.

“I assumed as much. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, my dear, I had to talk to your mother,” the Queen said. “I’m unimpressed, and I thought higher of her than her behavior the past couple days.”

“It’s okay, she disappoints everyone sooner or later,” Roman said drily.

Remy cackled and the Queen covered her mouth, but Roman could see by her eyes she was smiling. “Get back into your day clothes, dear, we don’t want to give the game away by you walking around in your suit.”

“Oh, true,” Roman said, taking off the suit and changing back into his day clothes. Inwardly, though, he felt a wave of dysphoria building. All he could think about in a skirt was the way his body had betrayed him. He couldn’t stand being seen as female. It just didn’t feel natural to him.

The Queen put a hand around Roman’s shoulders and thanked Remy as they walked out of the room. “Feeling better, dear?” the Queen asked.

“I felt better in the suit,” Roman said. “It almost allowed me to forget.”

“Forget?” the Queen asked.

“Forget that my body doesn’t feel like mine,” Roman said.

“I know it must feel that way, dear,” the Queen sighed. “But I hope that with time you’ll find ways to identify with your body and feel like yourself when you look in the mirror.”

Roman offered her a grim smile and a small, “Maybe one day.”

They made their way to the front of the castle, and Roman was just feeling worse as he heard his mother talking in the hallway. He could hear Damien as well, but not what he was saying.

Turning down a hall, Damien said, “See? Here they are now. I told you my mother would find her.”

_ Her. _ The word hurt more than it usually did. Roman bit back tears.

His mother was giving him a once over. “Are you feeling all right, Veronica? You look ill.”

Trapped. He was trapped, nowhere to go. “Fine, Mother,” Roman said with a wave of his hand. “I’m a little tired, but fine.”

His mother nodded and promptly moved on. “Rose, are we ready to look for the rings? I think these two need to find their matches before the day is up.”

“Yes, everything went well with Remy, he won’t need to see Veronica for the rest of the day.”

Roman thought his throat might close up. He never wanted to hear that name again.

Damien was looking at him with concern, but Roman couldn’t bring himself to focus on anything except the conversation unfolding in front of him. The Queen dropped her arm from around Roman’s shoulders, and Roman felt only marginally more like he could breathe. Everything seemed too bright and too dark, too loud and too quiet at once. “Do you have anything in mind for the rings?” the Queen asked.

“No, not really,” his mother said with a shrug. “Something more feminine in style and cut might be nice, though, for Veronica. She has the fingers for it, after all.”

Roman was crying before he even realized what was going on. His entire body was trembling and he slowly backed away from the two women talking. Damien’s mouth was moving, but Roman couldn’t hear him over the use of his deadname, the wrong pronouns, the reminder that his body would never be capable of love by someone who was cisgender.

Without much thought, he turned and ran, breath heaving in gasps as he cried. He wasn’t sure if it was audible or not, he certainly couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears.

Roman’s left foot got caught on his right shoelace and he toppled to the floor, palms and knees stinging at colliding with the tile, and no energy or desire to get up. He laid there, continuing to sob, the ringing fading away until he could hear how pathetic he sounded, crying over something as stupid as a comment on his hands. He didn’t bang his fists into the floor, too tired to even think about showing any signs of a tantrum.

Footsteps sounded behind him and three people skidded to a stop in the hallway. “Veronica, how many times do I have to tell you not to run away from situations you feel tired of? I know you may want to rest, but that is no excuse—”

“—Stop that!” Damien exclaimed. “Stop scolding her! Can’t you see she’s had enough already?!”

Roman didn’t respond, pretended he couldn’t hear when in actuality every use of the wrong pronoun stabbed him in the chest.

“My dear,” Damien said softly. “May we talk? I didn’t get to speak much to you this afternoon, and I would like to further our discussion privately. Maybe help you feel better?”

Roman sniffled and finally pushed himself up onto his forearms. “What’s the use?” he sobbed. “It won’t change anything. To bring up the obvious is only going to hurt me more.”

“My dear, you may think it’s obvious, but no one else here knows what’s going on,” Damien said. “Please. Let us help you. Let  _ me _ help you. You don’t have to talk to all of us at once, but please at least tell me? I can pass along the message if it’s too painful for you to tell anyone else.”

“I don’t want to,” Roman said softly. “It’s too painful. I don’t want to.”

Damien helped Roman to his feet as Roman continued to cry. “Then let’s just talk about other things for a while,” Damien said. “Let’s just sit down the two of us. I’ll do everything I can to help make you feel better.”

Roman looked down at the ground, blinking as a few more tears fell. He really didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to admit to Damien why he felt so terrible. But he knew. He knew if he didn’t say something now, he’d just have to do it later. And later he might not have the promise of being alone. “Can we speak in the library? Alone?” Roman asked.

“Yes, of course,” Damien said, wrapping an arm around Roman’s shoulders and guiding him away from their mothers. “Let’s talk in the library.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being patient waiting for this update! I was in the hospital yesterday, so I had no Internet access. :') I'm much better, though, now, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Roman spent the walk to the library in silence. Damien wasn’t exactly  _ silent, _ but he wasn’t talking, and he wasn’t forcing Roman to talk, a fact which Roman appreciated. Damien was just nodding to people in the hallways, offering little greetings here and there as they went to the library.

Once there, Damien led Roman to a back corner which held beanbags and some children’s toys, no doubt leftovers from Damien’s years as a child. Damien sat down in one and Roman fell into another, and they looked at each other for a long moment, a silent challenge to see who would speak first. “My dear,” Damien said eventually, “Please, will you tell me what has been bothering you?”

Roman took a breath. “I’ve been struggling with my dysphoria,” he said.

Damien waited a moment, before he sighed. “Roman, I cannot help with whatever is ailing you if you don’t reach out to me first,” he said. So much pleading and desperation was in his eyes, and Roman felt worse because he knew he was the cause of it. “Please. Let me in.”

Roman sighed. “No one will ever be able to love me,” he said softly. “Or at least, no gay man will be able to love me.”

“What?” Damien asked.

“Don’t you understand?” Roman threw his hands in the air. “My body is female. No matter what surgeries I get, I’ll always be stuck in the body of a woman. I might be lucky and some man who’s bisexual might love me, but no man who only feels attraction to the same gender would ever love me.”

Damien opened his mouth, before closing it with a click. He looked furious, his entire body trembling. “No,” he said simply. “Roman, you’re wrong.”

“How can you say that?” Roman asked. “We both know it’s true! I’m doomed to be in this body for the rest of my days! I can’t just magically get a male body with everything I want from it! And if I don’t have that body, who in their right mind would love me?”

Damien shook his head. “Roman, you’re  _ wrong,” _ Damien insisted. “What even possessed you to think this?”

“That joke about loving each other? Why else would you look disgusted if not at the thought of loving me? And scoffing at being gay with me around Remy? Like, I get it! You don’t want to marry me! I’m not desirable! But you don’t get to behave like that and then immediately after say I’m wrong!”

“That’s not what I did!” Damien exclaimed. “I already told you! I simply wasn’t expecting your joke! Scoffing around Remy wasn’t at the thought that I might like you!”

“Then what was it?!” Roman asked. “Because that’s what I heard from it!”

“It was the accusation that simply talking and joking around could be romantic attraction at work! Not at the notion that I might love you, but the notion that two men can apparently not be friends if they’re both gay.” Damien continued to shake. “And you  _ are _ a man, Roman. Your mind is what determines your gender, not whatever you might have between your legs at the moment.”

“Oh,” Roman said. “But I’m not...I don’t have...”

“Not having a dick doesn’t make you any less of a man, you dumbass,” Damien said firmly. “And you  _ are _ a dumbass if you think that you can’t be a man just because you can’t stand and pee.”

“Damien...I appreciate the peptalk, but the fact of the matter remains that I can’t be a man. Not in the way I want to be,” Roman said, tears falling again.

“I’ll get you a binder. A packer with the ability to stand and pee while you use it. My dear, I will help you purchase a strap-on if you think that it will help you feel more like a man. Because you deserve to feel like your gender,” Damien said. “Please trust me. I’ve loved men my whole life, Roman. I know one when I see one. And I see one in you.”

Roman honestly didn’t know how to respond to that. “Why?” he asked. “Why do you see a man in me when I’m...not?”

“My dear,” Damien said, moving to sit next to Roman with a gaze so intense Roman was scared to look him in the eyes, “You are a man. The voice you have telling you that you’re not is not your own. The confidence you’ve shown when you are yourself, when you are free to be Roman, and don’t have to cater to your mother, that cannot be faked. You are at your strongest when you are allowed to be yourself. And I don’t want to presume that I know you better than you know yourself, but I have seen you, my dear. I have seen you happy. And you’re at your happiest when you can be the man you want to be.”

“Okay, so I’m a man,” Roman said. “That doesn’t mean that any gay man will love me. I’m still undeniably feminine in figure. Have you seen how many gay men will say, ‘No fats, no femmes’?”

“That is not every gay man, my dear,” Damien said. “You can find a gay man who will love you for who you are.”

Roman just continued to cry. “Like who?” he asked, scoffing through his tears.

“Where do I begin?” Damien asked. “Roman, any man with half a brain in this castle would fall for you.”

Roman’s stomach flipped. He couldn’t possibly hope that included Damien...

Could he?

“Like who?” Roman asked. His heart pounded in his chest. If Damien included himself in the list...

“Patton. Logan. Virgil. I know Remy was taking his time with you. Like I said, my dear, anyone with half a brain.”

“What, you don’t have a brain?” Roman joked weakly.

“Well, first of all, I  _ don’t _ have half a brain, I have one singular brain cell, so jot that down,” Damien said. “Second of all, my dear...could we not make jokes about loving each other?”

Roman felt his heart shatter. “What?” he asked faintly.

“I know we’re to be married, my dear, but the love jokes make me uncomfortable, and you seem to spiral soon after making them. I think it’s in both of our best interests if we try to keep those jokes to a minimum.” Damien scratched the back of his neck. “I’m truly sorry, but I just...”

“No, no, I understand,” Roman said, feeling his hopes be torn into shreds.

“This doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of love, my dear,” Damien said, giving Roman a tight hug. “Understand? I just don’t want either of us getting more hurt.”

And the heartache Roman felt could only mean one thing: he was  _ definitely _ in love with Damien. And he had no idea what to do about it. “All right,” Roman said softly.

Damien offered Roman a smile, but Roman couldn’t bring himself to return it. Instead, he sighed and mumbled, “We have to go back out to our mothers, don’t we?”

“I’m afraid so,” Damien said simply.

“Do we have to do it right this second?” Roman asked. “Or do we have some time to rest?”

“I anticipate we don’t have to leave immediately, but we don’t have more than ten minutes before everyone comes looking for us,” Damien said.

“Ugh,” Roman muttered. His mood was souring fast, and he couldn’t help but feel resentful for the situation he had been put in. Made to be married to a man who wouldn’t even want to joke about love. “This stupid castle isn’t going to give me a second to rest until I’m dead, is it?”

“Hey, I know it’s not the best situation for you to be in, but this castle is better for you than the other one you had the misfortune of calling a home,” Damien said, defensive.

“At least there my mother wasn’t as aggressive about my not being trans as she is here!” Roman snapped.

“She didn’t  _ know _ that you were trans! She’d react just as badly whenever you told her in the future, and who knows, she might not have been able to try and pin you to me that time! At least  _ I’m _ accepting of your identity!” Damien huffed. “I know I’m a royal pain in the ass, my dear. I  _ also _ know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I don’t trust anyone else with that job.”

_ And yet you don’t love me? _ Roman thought, but didn’t dare say.

Damien pinched the bridge of his nose. “Neither of us are in a great mood. Should we just...agree to move on and head back to our mothers? Continue this discussion at a later date when we feel like it?”

“Yeah, probably,” Roman agreed, and they both left the library.

They didn’t say anything for a minute, until Damien lightly poked Roman in the shoulder. “Poke,” he said softly.

Roman frowned and turned to look at Damien. “What was that for?” he asked.

“Conversation starter,” Damien said with a shrug.

“Lousy conversation starter,” Roman said.

Damien smirked. “Ah, and yet, we’re still conversing after it.”

“That’s how low your standards are?” Roman asked.

“That’s how conversations are  _ started. _ I’d say my expectations for conversations are on par,” Damien defended.

Roman shook his head and muttered, “You’re a ridiculous man.”

“Thank you, my dear, I do try,” Damien said with a pleased little smirk.

Roman poked him back, significantly harder, and Damien yelped, scowling at Roman when he giggled in response. Damien retaliated by running his fingers up Roman’s sides and Roman  _ shrieked _ in response. “Hey! Tickling is illegal!” Roman protested.

“Says who?” Damien laughed.

“Says me!” Roman said.

“You’re not the crown prince of this kingdom!” Damien said smugly.

But Roman had too much experience with Remus using this line to just back down. “Oh, well, then. I suppose tickling  _ is _ legal,” Roman sighed, before his hands darted to Damien’s sides.

Damien yelped before bursting into laughter and Roman grinned wickedly. “So you think you can do this, huh?” Roman asked. “You think you can beat me at my own game?”

“Stop...stop! I yield! I yield!” Damien exclaimed, holding his hands up and out in surrender. “You win! I yield!”

Roman backed away and Damien panted. “That was...far too much for me to handle,” Damien gasped. “I’m a little bit dizzy, now.”

“Oh, no, are you okay?” Roman asked, hands moving to Damien’s shoulders.

Damien took a deep breath and swallowed. “I’ll be fine, my dear. But I’m starting to understand the phrase that my mother always told me when I was younger. I truly am too mischievous for my own good.”

“Right, because I take that mischief as a challenge, right?” Roman asked. “And combined our forces are almost unstoppable.”

“I would think so,” Damien said. “It’s why I’m not allowed near paint, and why we should probably agree to a truce when it comes to tickling.”

“Agreed,” Roman said.

They shook hands and moved further down the hall, before two voices called Damien’s name and Roman’s deadname. They both turned and found their mothers rushing up to them. “Is everything sorted?” the Queen asked before Roman’s mother could start anything.

“Everything’s sorted for now,” Damien agreed. “We might be talking later but the bulk of the issue is resolved.”

Roman silently nodded. He couldn’t say that the bulk of the issue was resolved himself without sounding unconvincing. Damien being so passionate to Roman about his masculinity meant that Roman loved Damien a lot, perhaps too much for his own good. And that was a pretty huge issue. He wasn’t supposed to catch feelings for this man he was doomed to be married to for the rest of his life. He was supposed to just...suffer silently, or at least be friends with this man who was the key for him getting HRT, and the surgery he needed. Catching feelings was  _ not _ part of the plan.

Their mothers herded them out the front door and Virgil was standing there with a car, and all four of them got inside. Damien’s mother drove, and Roman didn’t fail to notice another car following them down the hill. “My mother insists on driving everywhere,” Damien murmured to Roman. “She says that no assassin worth their salt would try and kill her from a distance. Virgil makes sure all the guards’ cars have bullet proof glass anyway.”

Roman laughed a little. “Frankly, I don’t blame her,” he said simply. “I wouldn’t want to be stuck with someone else escorting me everywhere. Half of the fun is the journey, and someone else will nine times out of ten take the shortest route from point A to point B. Me? I like adventure.”

“I can see that,” Damien said with a soft smile.

Roman lapsed into a comfortable silence with Damien after that. The initial awkwardness and the subsequent irritation of their earlier interaction was no longer there. Either he was too tired to care, or he just happened to be in a better mood and it was difficult to get him down today. Although judging by the dysphoria debate, Roman’s money was on too tired. Dysphoria always took it out of him.

They travelled through the nearest town to the outskirts of the south side, where a jewelry store sat, a little simplified but undeniably charming. All four of them got out of the car, and when Virgil pulled up, he hopped out and led them inside.

The jeweler seemed to be expecting them, as the store was mostly empty, save for a few staff members. “Your Majesty,” the one who Roman assumed was a manager said, “It is wonderful to see you again.”

“You as well,” the Queen said with a smile. “And I presume you have everything ready for our children?”

“Yes, right this way,” the man said, gesturing for Roman and Damien to follow him.

Roman did so, Damien trailing behind. “May I see your ring finger, Your Highness?” the jeweler asked Roman.

Roman obliged, and the jeweler fit a small device over Roman’s ring finger, tightening it. “Hm. Size six,” he murmured. “And you, Your Highness?”

Damien offered his own hand out and the jeweler did the same to Damien. “Size eleven,” he said. “And I assume you want the rings to match?”

“That would be ideal, yes,” Damien said. “We are getting married, after all, it would make sense to have matching rings.”

The jeweler nodded. “Of course. Just making sure we’re all on the same page, Your Highness.”

The jeweler brought out an assortment of rings in their sizes and Roman looked them all over. “See any you like, my dear?” Damien asked. “I’ll be honest, I’m a little overwhelmed.”

“This may seem odd, but I do like the black ones,” Roman said.

“Black zirconium?” the jeweler asked. “I would not have assumed you liked that. Would you like to see more?”

“Please,” Roman said.

The jeweler nodded and brought up a small selection of black rings. Immediately, Roman’s eyes lit up as he saw one of the specific rings. “Oh, that one is gorgeous!” he exclaimed, pointing.

The jeweler picked it up. “You like this one? It’s black zirconium with strands of rose gold throughout the ring.”

Roman nodded. “I like the contrast between the zirconium and the gold.”

“Mm, I agree, my dear. You have quite an eye for jewelry,” Damien said softly.

“Shush, you,” Roman said with a mock glare. “But if you like it as well, then I guess we have our wedding bands.”

“We have our wedding bands,” Damien said with a relieved smile. “That’s a weight off my chest.”

“I wasn’t nearly as worried about it as you were, but I agree. It does feel better to have one less thing to worry about,” Roman agreed.

Damien grinned and the jeweler asked them questions, getting their exact ring sizes and there was a minor bustle trying to find rings that they liked in that style in their size, but they found two rings and the jewelers promised to have them ready the day before the wedding, at which point they left the store. Roman took a deep breath of fresh air and said, “I like it down here. It feels a little less lonely. Even if we have to be supervised, it’s nice to be out and about.”

“Agreed,” Damien said with a slight nod. “I do like going on small errands into town every once in a while, just to feel the fresh air, the sun on my face, and a sense of purpose it’s hard to find when you’re at home all the time.”

“As much as you two may like to be out, we do have to head back. Logan wants you to do more dancing, he just texted me as much when I told him we found the wedding bands,” the Queen said.

Roman groaned and Damien laughed, wrapping an arm around Roman’s shoulders and guiding him back to the car. Roman sat in the back with Damien and let the Queens talk up front. Damien poked Roman’s shoulder and whispered, “Any particular dances you’d like to learn for the reception?”

“Not really,” Roman whispered back. “I’m surprised I can handle the waltz, I’m pretty sure if I tried a foxtrot I’d twist my ankle.”

Damien laughed, clapping a hand over his mouth as his shoulders shook. “I’m sorry for laughing, I just see that being entirely too plausible,” he said.

Roman’s phone chirped and he looked at it. “Is that Remus’ text alert?” his mother asked from the front.

“No, Mom,” Roman said, checking the text and seeing it was from Remus. “It looks like it was just spam.”

_ can you send a picture of fh? _ the text read.

_ not right now, with mother. you nearly got your hide tanned _ Roman responded.

He didn’t get a text back after that. They reached the top of the mountain and Roman and Damien got out of the car, and Roman sighed. “Hey, Damien. Mind if I get a picture with you?”

“Why?” Damien asked.

“Just thought I might share it with some of my friends whenever I can see them next. Maybe show Remus, too,” Roman said with a shrug.

“Okay,” Damien agreed. “Why don’t we head to the ballroom and take a picture there?”

Roman nodded.

Damien and Roman walked inside, their mothers trailing behind. “Was that really your brother?” Damien asked lowly.

“Yeah. He’s the one who wanted a picture,” Roman said.

“Can I have his number?” Damien asked. “We could have a group chat the three of us, with a different text alert, so that your mother wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, that’s genius!” Roman said, trying to keep his voice down so his mother wouldn’t hear.

Damien took Roman and Remus’ numbers, put them in his phone, and, when they got to the ballroom, took a picture of himself and Roman, sending it to both Roman and Remus.  _ because you wanted a picture of me, remus _ Damien sent.

Roman laughed as Damien showed Roman that Remus was typing. This day was certainly about to get far more interesting.


	20. Chapter 20

The worst bad thing about the rest of the dance practice was that Roman’s mother was there, so everyone had to deadname him. The second worst thing was that he was constantly getting criticised by his mother on his dance moves. The most irritating thing of the whole experience was that Damien seemed to do everything Logan was teaching them near-effortlessly, while Roman struggled to keep up.

They took a quick break after half an hour of dancing and Damien checked his phone, before immediately laughing. “Your brother is interrogating me,” he said in a low voice, showing Roman his phone.

Roman looked at all the questions Remus had spammed in the group chat before rolling his eyes and pulling out his own phone.  _ re, cut it out. damien and i don’t even get our phones while we’re doing dance practice. and i don’t think damien wants to answer all those questions _

Damien huffed and started typing, and Roman saw his message a moment later.  _ that’s a blatant lie, i can and will answer any questions you have. later. when i’m not about to die from a broken neck dancing _

_ please, your dancing is FAR better than mine, _ Roman shot back.

_ you two are SERIOUSLY having this conversation while standing next to each other, aren’t you? _ Remus asked.

Damien turned red and Roman choked on his laughter.  _ you know me too well, re _

_ of course i do, you’re my baby brother _ Remus replied.

“He’s older by two minutes!” Roman muttered indignantly, and texted as much.

Damien snickered. “If this is what you’re like when you get to interact with your brother, I’ll have to ask him around frequently. I enjoy when you’re full of life like this.”

“I’m ‘full of life’? As opposed to, what, dead inside?” Roman asked.

“I mean...the first time I saw you my first impression was that you were either about to pass out or just work on autopilot for an indeterminable amount of time,” Damien said with a shrug. “So dead inside applies.”

Roman snorted. “Honey, you haven’t seen me dead inside until I’ve had to spend a full day in meetings with Remus. That’s an experience I would never wish upon my worst enemy.”

“Really? Who would you wish it on, if not your worst enemy?” Damien asked.

Roman stared Damien dead in the eye and said with complete sincerity, “My parents.”

Damien  _ howled _ with laughter, nearly falling over as his legs shook. “Oh, God,” he wheezed. “I was not prepared!”

“Clearly not,” Roman said, starting to giggle.

“I need—I need the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” Damien said, staggering away, still laughing.

Roman turned as Logan started clapping. “I have never seen anyone make Damien laugh that hard before two in the morning, bravo,” he said, completely deadpan.

“I nearly made him pee himself, didn’t I?” Roman asked knowingly.

Logan just arched an eyebrow and said, “What do you think?”

Roman giggled and walked over to Logan. “While he’s gone, I don’t suppose you could be my dance partner and show me something Damien doesn’t know yet?”

“I can be your dance partner,” Logan agreed. “But learning new steps might be a bit too ambitious for the two minutes he’s gone.”

“Can we try anyway?” Roman asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Logan said, helping Roman get in position. “Okay, now the very first thing you’re going to want to do is to keep your feet flat on the floor, or you risk the danger of twisting something...”

Roman nodded along as Logan walked him through the steps of a dance Roman had never heard of before. Roman did a lot of looking at his feet as they ran through it once, then again as it went twice. The third time, Logan forced Roman to keep his head up and they went through all the steps just in time for Damien to walk back in the room. “Hey!” he exclaimed indignantly. “Logan, you cannot just steal my fiancé!”

“Oh, but I can,” Logan said, smirking. “And I think she prefers dancing with me over you.”

Damien made an affronted noise as Roman laughed. “I like dancing with both of you,” he said, looking between them. “No need to make this a competition for my heart. Love triangles are overrated, anyway.”

“True, polyamory is far more ideal,” Logan agreed in a voice just this side of too soft for Roman’s mother to hear.

“Speaking from experience?” Roman asked as Damien walked over.

“No comment,” Logan said with a small smirk.

Damien sighed. “How much longer are we going to go through dance practice?” he asked.

“I can hold you both reasonably for another hour,” Logan said. “And then Her Highness has a meeting with the King.”

“I have a what?” Roman asked, voice shrill in shock.

Logan blinked. “Had no one told you? The king wanted to talk with you, one on one before the wedding.”

“Oh, great!” Roman said, hysteria rising in his chest. “That’s going to go over perfectly, I’m sure!”

“My dear, you’ll be fine,” Damien laughed. “My father and I have similar senses of humor and similar temperaments. You get on fine with me, I’m sure my father will find you a delight.”

“That does not make me feel any better,” Roman said simply. “You and I have also had disagreements as well.”

Damien sighed. “Well, my father said that whenever he planned on talking to you, I was not allowed in the room. Apparently I could influence your answers and make you be dishonest in order to spare my feelings, or something of that ilk. Something tells me the conversation won’t be about you, but me.”

“That doesn’t help!” Roman exclaimed, heart hammering in his chest. Would he have to tell the King that he liked Damien? What would the King do? How would he react? “If the conversation is about you, then what if I’m accused of being a poor influence? What if he says I’m not fit to stay here?”

“‘What if’ questions will get you nowhere but in trouble, my dear,” Damien advised. “Try to breathe.”

Roman made a distressed noise and Damien sighed. “My father has spoken to you all of maybe three or four times, my dear. He simply wants to know you better. And probably your thoughts on the whole situation here. He likes knowledge, and likes to know every view on a situation. Your perspective is one he hasn’t heard before. Please, just give yourself some room to breathe and relax. You’ll do fine,” Damien assured.

With great effort, Roman took in a shaky breath. “I’m not ready for that,” he said. “I’m not ready. Let’s just...let’s just dance. I need to take my mind off of that.”

Damien nodded and he and Roman danced for a while. Roman was shaky at first, but every time his hands started to tremble too hard Damien would give them a reassuring squeeze. Slowly, Roman was able to let go of his worries and just enjoy dancing for a while. But of course, all too soon, that had to come to an end.

Just as Roman was laughing at Damien twirling him, Virgil came into the room and said, “His Majesty wishes to speak to the princess.”

Roman’s stomach sank, not only at being misgendered but at the fact that the hour had passed so quickly. Damien gave Roman a soft smile. “You’ll do wonderfully, my dear. Just remember to be yourself, all right?”

Roman swallowed and nodded, even as his hands shook and his legs felt like jelly as he walked over to Virgil. To his credit, Virgil placed a reassuring hand on Roman’s shoulder. “I’m not ready for this,” Roman said simply as they walked out of the ballroom. “I’m not ready.”

Virgil sighed. “You’ll do fine, Roman. I know you haven’t spoken with the King much, but he’s nothing if not fair. He’ll give you a chance to explain whatever has been rattling around in your head if you ask for it.”

“I’m still not ready,” Roman repeated.

Virgil sighed, and turned to face Roman fully. “Roman, what are you worried about? Be honest. Because the king isn’t transphobic, he isn’t homophobic, and he takes secrets to his grave. There’s no reason for you to freak out over those things, at least.”

Roman sighed. “I just...he’s going to be my father-in-law. I want to give him a good impression,” he shrugged and mumbled, “I want him to think I’m worthy of marrying Damien.”

Virgil blinked. “Roman, the King won’t judge you on whether or not you’re ‘worthy’ of being married to his son. He already agreed to this whole ordeal, he wouldn’t have done that if he thought you would hurt Damien.”

Roman shifted on his feet and was about to protest when a voice said, “Ah, Virgil. I’ll take him from here.”

Turning, Roman paled. The King was there, looking at both of them. Virgil nodded and gave Roman one last, “You’ll be fine,” as he left.

“Come with me, Roman,” the King said.

Roman’s heart leapt into his throat as he complied, following the King down the halls to a study. The King sat down in one of the chairs in the study, and he gestured for Roman to sit in the chair across from him. “Please, have a seat.”

With his heart hammering in his chest, Roman sat down. “So...what did you want to talk to me about?” Roman asked.

The King offered Roman a small smile. “Relax, Roman, you’re not in trouble,” he said. “I just wanted to get to know you a little better and know what you felt about the situation we’ve all found ourselves in.”

“O-oh,” Roman said. “I mean, it’s okay, I guess.”

“Okay?” the King laughed. “Roman, you told your parents you were transgender and they promptly tried to marry you off to make you their ‘daughter’ again. Most people I know would not describe that as ‘okay.’”

Roman took a breath and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said softly.

The King leaned forward. “Roman, I want your honest opinion,” he said, not unkindly. “I talked to Damien. He said you didn’t want to be used as a chess piece, or a mold for your mother to live through. Where’s the man who holds that righteous indignation, who’s independent, who’s not afraid to tell people that he won’t sit down and shut up?”

“My mother is killing him,” Roman said honestly. “Slowly but surely, he’s dying.”

The King nodded in understanding. “I want to know what you think, son. Don’t be afraid of judgement here. Tell me what you think, and I promise it will never leave these walls if you don’t want them to.”

Roman leaned back into his chair and shook his head, laughing. “You want to know the most pathetic thing about this whole ordeal?” he asked. “I told myself I wouldn’t catch feelings. I told myself the second I got the chance, I’d file for a divorce and run away and never look back to my old life. And what do I do? I catch feelings! Because I’m a hopeless gay man who sees any shred of affection as reason for attraction and I fall hopelessly in love with anyone who treats me like someone who deserves to be respected.”

The King just sat there in silence, looking at Roman expectantly.

“And I know, I know I shouldn’t call myself pathetic, but that’s how I feel!” Roman exclaimed. “And I always do this! Anyone shows me attention that’s positive, and they’re not related to me and I feel affection for them! Usually, it goes away with time, or something happens that makes it fade faster, but no, everything Damien does makes it grow stronger! He makes sure I’m validated, and that I know my own worth, and he checks on me to make sure that I’m feeling all right and...and I love him for it, and I know I can never tell him. Because he doesn’t want to be married. At least, he doesn’t want to be married to me. He wanted the chance to be married to someone he truly loved, and I took that from him—”

“—Roman, that isn’t something that you took from him,” the King interrupted. “You didn’t go up to your parents and insist that you be married off. Your parents are the ones who came up with the idea. Blame them. I know that Damien in part blamed his mother and myself for the whole arrangement. What I haven’t told him yet is that your parents were threatening war if you didn’t get married to someone. It didn’t matter who, but if no one agreed, then they would start a war and make sure that everyone was dragged into it. We were their last hope. And, because we didn’t want to start a war with people who have a frankly appalling amount of money going into their military, we agreed. But your parents are the ones to blame here, not you.”

Roman buried his head in his hands with a groan. “I wish I could say I was surprised about their threats,” he said. “I really wish I could. But sadly, I’m not. They’re always like this. They threatened to send me home if I didn’t say I was wrong in how I felt. And you can’t fake how you feel, you know? That’s something that you can’t simply wave away and suddenly feel different. It’s real and it hurts to be told, ‘you’re not allowed to feel this way, because we don’t want you to.’ Like, do you really hate your own son so much? That you’d try to kill him? Just to keep your daughter?”

The King sighed. “I wish I could make sense of things for you, son. But the fact of the matter is that some people are just cruel. And nothing we can do will ever change that fact.”

Roman miserably nodded. “So that’s how I feel, I guess. Trapped, pathetic, and hopelessly crushing. Does that tell you all you need to know?”

“Well, I would appreciate being able to talk to you more, but that does give me a basis on what to talk  _ about,” _ the King said. “Tell me a little more about why you like my son?”

“I mean...he’s kind, and funny, and he does his best to make sure that I’m okay even when things kinda suck and we’re trapped doing whatever to make sure my mother is happy. He’s just...honestly, he’s the kind of guy I’d crush on even if I weren’t doomed to be married by the end of the week. He’s cute, too. Like, when he smiles and laughs at something I say, he just sorta does this thing, where his eyes light up and if he tries to hide his laughter he can’t do it the whole way, and he just kinda shakes and it’s the most adorable thing,” Roman rambled. “It’s really fun to get to see. And he’s smart, he’s  _ so _ smart, he told me he has an interest in philosophy? And one day I have plans to get him to rant to me about it in great detail so I can see the passion in his eyes and watch as he gets excited over it. I really want to know more about him. I want to...I mean, I want to know everything, but I’ll settle for learning whatever I can for the next week until my parents are out of the picture, you know? Once they’re gone, I can learn absolutely anything I want.”

“What would you want to know?” the King asked.

Roman shrugged with a sheepish grin. “Honestly, I’m not really sure,” he admitted. “Half of the fun is realizing you never would have thought to ask stuff but now you have all these new questions to ask because there’s a whole side to someone you never realized existed.”

“Ah, you’re one of those types,” the King said with a grin. “My wife is much the same, you and her will get along.”

Roman felt relief start to trickle through him. The King being relaxed and kind was starting to get Roman to relax as well. “So do you have anything else to ask me?”

“Well, I was going to ask you how you felt about my son, but you answered those questions for me,” the King said. “Once it became clear that you genuinely liked him, I wanted to make sure you would never intentionally hurt him, but I can see clearly that you very much care for him. Hurting him would never be your intention.”

“Yeah, of course not,” Roman said. “I’d never want to hurt Damien.”

“Then we’ll have no problems,” the King said with a grin. “The two of you can get married, and get to know each other better. I have no doubt that both of you have the potential to really love each other, given the time to get to know each other.”

Roman offered a small smile back. “I really hope so,” he admitted softly. “That would be amazing.”

The King nodded knowingly. “Would you like to talk more before dinner, or would you rather go find my son and talk to him?”

Roman considered. On one hand, he did want to talk to Damien more. On the other, he also needed some time away from his mother, and his mother would inevitably find him if he were with Damien. And now he was calm being around the King, so he didn’t have to worry about a panic attack or dysphoria here. “Why don’t we talk some more?” Roman proposed. “We can always see the others at dinner.”

The King gave Roman a genuinely delighted smile. “Excellent!” he said. “What do you want to talk about?”

Roman shrugged. “I don’t know. Any and everything, I suppose.”

“I can work with that,” the King said.


	21. Chapter 21

Roman and the King talked about little things that didn’t matter for another forty five minutes, at least. Just when the King was about to bring out a chess board, there was a knock at the door and Damien opened the door, a scowl looking suspiciously like a pout on his face. “Father,” he whined. “You know I want time with my fiancé, too!”

“Oh relax, Damien, we were just about to play chess!” Roman laughed. “And you’ve had several days with me. Your father and I have only had this afternoon!”

Damien sighed. “Fact remains, my dear. I want time with you, too.”

“Then you can join us!” the King said. “So long as you promise not to help Roman while we play chess.”

“I’m not good enough at chess to help,” Damien said, closing the door and walking over.

“Exactly why I don’t want you helping; I want to assess Roman’s skills on his own first,” the King said.

“Oh, great, I didn’t know there was going to be a graded test!” Roman laughed.

“Not graded, just a test in general,” the King said with a wink.

Damien pulled a chair over to where they were sitting and asked, “So, Roman, does it turn out your fears were unfounded?”

Roman glared at Damien. “Come on. Having anxiety about talking to people one-on-one isn’t uncommon, and I had never talked to your father for long before. I believe I had the right to be anxious.”

“I never said you didn’t,” Damien said. “I just asked if your fears were unfounded.”

“While unfounded may be true, Damien, you also have to remember that emotions play into anxiety just as much as facts do,” the King said. “So you might want to go easy on Roman. After all, from what I’ve gathered from when we’ve talked, he could very easily take you down and make you regret your words, should he so choose.”

Roman laughed as Damien made a surprised, choked noise. “Father!” he protested. “It was just teasing!”

“Teasing which was dangerously close to crossing a line, I suspect,” the King said. “Which is why I stepped in.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Roman said. “Especially considering it would have been difficult for me to explain exactly why the word ‘unfounded’ was bothering me.”

The King simply nodded and gestured to the chess board. “The board is set up, and you have the white pieces, you may start.”

Roman nodded and looked at the board with a frown, moving one of his pawns forward. The King did the same, and Roman brought out one of his bishops. The King responded by moving another pawn. Damien watched the game and the three of them chatted as they played.

Damien detailed the picking of the rings that afternoon, which the King nodded along to. Roman talked about that morning after a few questions from the King. He wound up going into a rant that took a solid half an hour and a majority of the chess gameplay to get through. “...And I hate the fact that even now, she still has power over me. It feels like no matter what I do, my mother will do her damnedest to ensure I can’t make any progress. I know that’s not true, logically. I  _ can _ make progress, especially since I’m out of the country by the end of the week,” Roman said. “And yet, I’m still struggling to get through to the end of that week. Check.”

The King observed the chess board in surprise. “Well, what do you know?” he asked. “You’re rather good at chess, Roman.”

Roman preened under the praise as the King made his move. “Check,” the King said.

Observing the board, Roman saw that by moving the rook the way the King had, Roman was indeed blocked from attacking the king piece and in danger himself from getting captured. Roman took the rook piece, and replied, “Check,” as he cleared the way to the King’s pieces.

The King moved his piece one over to the left, which was exactly what Roman had hoped he’d do. He grinned as he moved his knight into the spot necessary to trap the king piece and crowed, “Checkmate!”

“Well done,” the King clapped. “You’re truly exceptional at chess, Roman! A worthy opponent indeed!”

Roman blushed. “Oh, it’s not  _ that _ impressive,” he said.

“I would disagree,” Damien said. “My father is the one who taught me chess, and he’s one of the best players in the country, if not  _ the _ best. I don’t know the status of his long-term rival.”

“Ah, Charles is sick in the hospital, but he’s still kicking,” the King said. “Which reminds me, boys, I really should call him and see how he’s doing. Would you mind waiting outside for a few minutes while I make that call? And then I believe it would be time for dinner, and all three of us could walk down to the dining room.”

“That’s fine by me. Roman?” Damien asked.

“Yeah, fine,” Roman agreed, and he stood with Damien and left the King to his own devices in the study.

Damien sighed once they were out in the hall. “I’m glad you get along with my father, all jokes aside,” he said simply.

“Yeah, he’s a really nice man, and you’re right; the two of you share a similar sense of humor,” Roman said.

“So, what was your initial talk about?” Damien asked. “Was it really about me?”

Roman thought back to his rant about Damien and fought the blush threatening to rise up on his cheeks. “Kind of...” he said. “It was about the whole situation in general. How I was holding up in this mess of a plan for an arranged marriage.”

Damien nodded. “Makes sense,” he said. “My father did seem concerned last night, and not just about your physical safety. When I was being told off for fighting your mother on your name and pronouns, my father not only said that I could have endangered you physically, but that your mother would most likely be doubling down on her position and that could damage your mental health as well. I should have seen him asking about how you were holding up as a given.”

“I mean,” Roman shrugged, “I didn’t see it coming either. Granted, I don’t know your father as well as you do.”

Damien nodded. “True. You wouldn’t be expected to. Most people seem to think that I can predict my father’s actions, however, and I most certainly cannot. Half of what he does is a mystery to me, and the other half that I understand is only because he explains his reasoning in the meetings we have, and I’ve grown to understand his strategy better over the years.”

Roman smiled. “I can’t imagine being expected to predict any of my family members’ behavior. If someone wanted to torture me, all they’d have to do is say I would get hurt if I predicted something wrong, and then made me make predictions about...any of my family, really. I understand my brother Remus the best, and I still get his actions wrong half the time because he is just genuinely off-the-wall unpredictable.”

Damien laughed a little and said, “Oh, yes. We’ve been texting most of the time you were with my father. I retreated to my room under the guise of ‘studying’ and we texted while I took notes for an upcoming essay. He has...quite the imagination. Quite a few gorey metaphors on my phone and in my head that no amount of brain bleach could cure.”

“Oh, yeah, he does that. If you ask him politely to stop he’ll cut back as best he can. Sometimes some slip through, but he never does it maliciously. He just genuinely thinks about blood and gore a tad too much,” Roman said.

“Good to know,” Damien said. “Next time he does something a little too much for me, I’ll ask him politely to stop.”

“You could ask him at any time, he doesn’t need an example of ‘too far,’ he’ll just ask you what sounds like too much and if you give him even vague descriptions he’ll respect it to the best of his ability,” Roman said.

“That is considerate, but for me, personally, he seems to be toeing the line of ‘too much’ rather than actually crossing it. I need to know whether or not I’m truly bothered by it before I ask him to stop.”

“Makes sense,” Roman said, nodding.

Damien offered Roman a small smile. “He talked about you a lot. Wanted to make sure that you were doing okay, and that your mother wasn’t killing you. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to ensure the second part, but hopefully he feels assured that I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Yeah, my mother is killing me slowly, unfortunately. I should be able to last through the end of the week, though it won’t be easy,” Roman said.

“I’ll do everything I can to make it easier for you, my dear, you have my word on that.”

“I appreciate it,” Roman murmured.

Damien grinned like he was about to share a secret and Roman frowned. “What?” Roman asked.

“Did you really try to race Remus in high heels once?” Damien asked.

Roman groaned. “I will  _ kill _ Remus! He swore he’d never tell!”

“According to him, he swore he’d never tell anyone except those who need to know for safety purposes. And I will say that if we were to ever race each other through the halls, I should know not to give you high heels to do it in,” Damien said.

“Of course he said that,” Roman growled. “I still beat him to the kitchen, even nearly twisting my ankle and falling down the steps!”

“Oh, he mentioned that too,” Damien said. “And I must say, my dear, your tenacity is as admirable as it is worrying.”

“Thank you,” Roman huffed. “I do try.”

The door to the study opened and they both looked over to find the King standing there. “Just spoke to Charles, and he said he might not be able to come to the wedding, but he sends his best wishes to the grooms.”

Roman blinked. “Not the bride and groom?”

“If he’s not coming to the wedding, he can’t spoil the surprise. So naturally I used your real name,” the King said easily.

Roman could feel tears forming in his eyes. “Oh, god, I didn’t expect to get so emotional over that,” he said, voice growing thick as he laughed. “That’s really...really nice.”

The King grinned and Damien offered Roman a smile. “It’s good to get your real name out there, then?”

“You have no idea,” Roman said. “Imagine if everyone just one day started calling you Jessica for no reason and refused to call you by anything else, and it was like they forgot your real name. And that’s what deadnaming is sort of like.”

Damien blinked, tilted his head to the side, and said, “I’m starting to fully grasp why you’re so miserable around your mother. Of course, the transphobia I understand on a factual level is distressing, but that metaphor gives me far more insight on the matter than I really...had before. And it’s not a pleasant thought.”

“Yeah,” Roman sighed, scratching his neck. “It’s exhausting.”

“Good thing we’re getting rid of your mother at the end of the week. And just say the word and on your wedding day I’ll throw her off the cliff,” Damien said.

Roman laughed. “Hopefully we can avoid throwing her off the cliff. I have no doubt she’ll be livid at the wedding, but here’s hoping that it won’t be bad enough that she needs to be escorted off the premises.”

“I might have her escorted off anyway, no matter what she does. She doesn’t deserve to see us be happy.”

Roman inwardly frowned at that. He had assumed that Damien would still be dreading the wedding itself. And yet, he said Roman’s mother didn’t deserve to see them happy? At the arranged wedding? What did that mean? Was Damien looking forward to the wedding? In more than just the sense that Roman would be out of his parents’ clutches? Roman was trying not to hope that Damien was implying he liked Roman, and was failing miserably at keeping that hope contained.

“Shall we get to dinner? I’m sure that your mothers are getting ready to come look for us in the next ten minutes,” the King said.

“Let’s get this over with,” Roman said, blowing out a breath. “The sooner dinner’s over the sooner I can relax in my room before going to bed, and I need some time to just lie around and not think.”

“Well, you might have to do  _ some _ thinking,” the King said as they started walking. “After all, the both of you need to work on your vows.”

Damien and Roman groaned at the same time, Damien while pinching the bridge of his nose and Roman as he tilted his head back towards the ceiling. “I really wish the vows were over and done with,” Roman complained. “I wish we could have just gone the traditional route, it’s such a pain to try and come up with original ones.”

“Personal vows can be the cherry on top of a perfect wedding,” the King said.

“I doubt our wedding will be any kind of ‘perfect,’” Roman said. “Purely from a free will perspective, we’re already losing.”

“I don’t know,” Damien said, considering. “If you look at it from the perspective of a long con, it could be perfect. Convincing everyone around us that we’re in love for however long we’re together? That could be a fun sort of game, depending on how you look at it.”

“I don’t like looking at love like a game,” Roman said.

“Typically I don’t either, but it’s a small thing to think about to distract myself from the pressing matters that I don’t know how to handle,” Damien said with a shrug. “Besides, walking down the aisle, looking and feeling like James Bond doing some sort of undercover work could in theory keep my spirits up.”

“All right, I’ll allow it,” Roman said reluctantly. “But no joking about being in love.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t make those jokes if you’re not allowed to make them,” Damien said simply.

“You two have an agreement to not discuss love?” the King asked, looking between the two.

“We have an agreement to not make jokes about love,” Roman corrected.

“It does nothing but make one or both of us feel worse about the situation, so we’re not going to press each other’s buttons and make us feel worse,” Damien added.

“Right,” the King said, but the look in his eye said that he had some opinion on the idea that he wasn’t going to spill easily.

Roman shrugged, stretching. “I mean, I don’t know about anyone else, here, but I find gay jokes to be infinitely more hilarious than jokes about loving someone else that don’t have a gay element.”

“You’re gay, of course you prefer gay jokes,” Damien scoffed. “There’s nothing remarkable about that, my dear.”

“Hey! I’m giving you insight into my kind of humor, and you’re just gonna say ‘not that remarkable’ and move on?” Roman asked indignantly. “You’re learning more about me! I thought you would appreciate that!”

“Roman, I’ve known you loved gay jokes since our first time alone when you were out to me,” Damien scoffed. “I’m not learning anything new about you when you say that.”

Roman huffed. “Well, is there anything about me that you  _ want _ to know that I haven’t told you?”

Damien shrugged. “What’s your sense of humor, beyond puns and gay jokes?”

“Uh...” Roman considered. “I do like some irony, and slapstick in moderation can be funny. But by and large, it’s puns and gay jokes. That, and horribly mispronouncing words.”

“Oh, great,” Damien said. “So I’m getting married to someone whose humor didn’t develop past five years old.”

“Oh come on, you’re telling me that someone saying ‘dick’ instead of ‘deck’ isn’t funny?” Roman asked.

“I...no?” Damien said. “That’s just how some accents work!”

“Well, then, you’re no fun,” Roman said definitively.

“I’m plenty fun!” Damien said petulantly.

“Right,” Roman said sarcastically. “Because you have a sense of humor that’s just ‘too sophisticated’ for me.”

“No,” Damien said. “Because my sense of humor has developed past five years old, our humor won’t always match up, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t be inherently fun.”

“I hope the both of you realize that you already  _ sound _ married,” the King said innocently.

Roman stuck his tongue out at the King and Damien laughed. “That’s bold,” he said. “The last time  _ I _ tried that I got tickled until I was sobbing.”

“The last time you tried that you were eight years old, and taunting me that I would never make you laugh so hard you’d cry,” the King said simply. “So I proved you wrong.”

“I still say that tickling me was cheating. If you’re getting tickled, you automatically laugh. It’s not genuinely funny,” Damien said sullenly.

“It is to me, who’s just hearing this story for the first time,” Roman said, giggling. “I didn’t realize that you pout so much, Damien.”

“I do  _ not _ pout,” Damien said, crossing his arms and scowling.

“Well, your emotional responses seem suspiciously similar to a five-year-old’s right now,” Roman said with a shrug. “So between my humor and your emotions, it looks like we make up one whole kindergartener.”

Damien groaned. “I’m not five years old. I’m just tired.”

“Same difference,” Roman said with a shrug.

“I’m inclined to agree,” the King said. “You act the same right now as you did when you were five and exhausted.”

“Father!” Damien exclaimed, growing beet red. “That’s not helpful!”

“Actually, I find it  _ very _ informative,” Roman said, smirking.

“I hate you all,” Damien grumbled as they walked into the dining room.


	22. Chapter 22

It turns out that Damien, Roman, and the King were the first three to show up for dinner. Roman glanced around. “I don’t see my mother,” he said.

Damien hummed. “Perhaps our mothers are discussing something elsewhere?”

“For your mother’s sake, I hope they’re not together,” Roman muttered.

Damien laughed. “Relax, my mother can handle herself in any situation,” he replied, taking a seat. “That includes less-than-pleasant ones.”

Roman took a seat next to Damien and sighed. “I figured, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to feel bad.”

“You aren’t responsible for anyone’s actions but your own, my dear,” Damien said.

“Tell that to my mother,” Roman muttered darkly.

“I will, if you genuinely want me to,” Damien simply replied.

Roman considered. “After the wedding,” he decided. “When I’m out of her clutches.”

“Should we make a code for when she’s around?” Damien asked softly. “So that we can warn each other?”

“Sounds good, what can we call her?” Roman asked.

“The Dragon Witch?” Damien asked.

Roman snorted. “She certainly acts like a witch-with-a-b,” he muttered. “And I can just say it’s a story Remus was telling me about if she asks. It’s perfect.”

Damien gave Roman a thumbs-up and Roman snickered. “I love it when you’re less formal,” he said. “Getting to see who you really are.”

“I mean, I have a formal side to me, it’s still  _ me _ that you’re seeing, but you have a point. When I’m less formal you’re closer to seeing the ‘real me,’” Damien said. “Whatever that means.”

Roman shrugged just as he heard the tell-tale sound of his mother trying to wheedle something out of whoever she was talking to at the edge of the room. “Yes, I know you’re busy, honey, all I’m asking for is five minutes. I want to hear my son’s voice again!”

Ouch. Roman flinched and Damien placed a hand on his shoulder, murmuring his apologies. “Not your fault,” Roman murmured in response.

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, and for that, I’m sorry,” Damien said.

“Hi, sweetheart!” his mother said in a sickeningly sweet tone. Roman took a deep breath, looking over at Damien and rolling his eyes. Damien winced. “How have you been, Remus?”

A long pause, before his mother sharply said, “You know this is what’s best for her, dear, we’re making sure that she’s all right. Now, if you’re going to behave like that whenever I speak to you, by all means, give the phone back to your father.” Roman waited with bated breath and nearly burst out laughing as his mother sighed and said, “Hello, darling. He’s still stubborn as ever, I see.”

Damien snickered quietly next to Roman and Roman ribbed him as he started cracking under his own mask. The two continued trying to stifle their laughter as the conversation on the phone continued, and Roman’s phone pinged.  _ mother wanted to speak with me, and i told her exactly what i thought about this situation :P _ read the text from Remus.

_ i heard, and i appreciate it _ Roman replied.

Damien pulled out his own phone and typed,  _ if you always behave that way around your parents, i am admittedly impressed. i have attempted to go head-to-head with your mother and it is not a pleasant experience _

_ the price i pay for my brother :P _ Remus responded.

Roman sent a couple hearts to the group chat and put his phone away as his mother walked over. Damien stayed on his phone a moment longer, long enough for Damien to tell Remus that they could talk after dinner, before he, too, put his phone away and looked up at Roman’s mother with a sigh. “Your Majesty,” he said civilly. “I propose a truce for tonight’s dinner? An agreement that no fights shall be had while we eat?”

“We wouldn’t have an issue if you just trusted that  _ I _ know my daughter best,” Roman’s mother said.

“Respectfully, Your Majesty, I myself am still a young adult. I trust the judgement of my peers much faster than those who are a generation older than I, merely because we have gone through similar experiences in a similar range of time. So, I will take my fiancé’s judgement to heart faster than yours. Now, we  _ did _ discuss certain things earlier today that mean I will be using she/her pronouns and the name Veronica for her for the time being, but I will still defer to Veronica faster than I will defer to you. It’s nothing personal,” Damien said.

Roman’s mother’s nostrils flared and Roman groaned. “Mother, Damien is trying to offer you an olive branch. It would be awfully nice if you took it.”

“I hardly see what olive branch there is in calling me  _ old,” _ Roman’s mother spat.

“I didn’t...that was not my intention,” Damien said calmly. “And I truly apologize that it came off as such. I just wish for a quiet dinner.”

“Diana! There you are!” the Queen said, walking into the room. “I’ve been looking for you, the tailor called and said he had a couple dress ideas in mind and he might want your opinion tomorrow on what you think would be best.”

“He did?” Roman’s mother asked.

“Apparently, he can’t decide on the frills. The cut is fine, according to him, but he can’t find the right lace for the job,” the Queen explained.

Roman’s mother, suitably distracted, started talking with the Queen about these supposed options for the “dress.” Roman sighed just as Patton walked in with dinner. “Everything okay, Your Highness?” Patton asked.

“Oh, fine,” Roman waved off. “Just a little tired.”

“Don’t fall asleep just yet,” Patton said with a little giggle. “Word on the grapevine is that you’re going to need your vows done by tomorrow morning, and that neither of you have started!”

“Wait, why tomorrow morning?” Damien asked, looking like he had just been told  _ he _ would be wearing a dress for the wedding.

“Don’t you know?” Patton asked. “The justice of the peace is coming in and going to be talking to the both of you about the vows.”

Damien paled and Roman choked. “Oh, no,” he breathed.

“Relax, my dear, you have a way with words, you should figure out exactly what you need to say without too much difficulty. I’m more worried about myself. My endeavors in writing have not been...great, historically,” Damien said.

“Maybe we could help each other?” Roman asked hopefully. “Brainstorm together?”

“Absolutely not!” Roman’s mother said. “The vows are to be a surprise for the both of you! I don’t want you spoiling that, Veronica!”

Roman bit the inside of his cheek and looked away from his mother, grumbling as the food was put on the table. “I can’t very well do this on my own,” he muttered.

“Perhaps you could text Remus?” Damien offered. “You said he was a writer, he might be able to help.”

“That’s true,” Roman considered. “I might have to give him a call. Or at the very least a text, because I know meetings happen and he might not be able to respond right away. But I will consider that. Lord knows I could use the help.”

“You’re not the only one,” Damien laughed, but it sounded strained.

“Don’t worry, Damien, you’ll do fine,” the Queen said, mischief in her eyes as she continued, “If you speak from the heart, you’ll do fine.”

Damien’s cheeks darkened into a deep scarlet and he coughed. “I’m  _ not _ doing that,” he said with a scowl. “And you know full-well why.”

Roman inwardly sighed. The Queen had given him the same advice, and he  _ knew _ that if he did that, he’d be the laughing stock of the wedding. Damien would probably say some generic things about love and trust and hope, and if Roman were honest...and said how much he liked Damien even only after knowing him for a few days...well, he didn’t think it would end well. For anyone involved. “I don’t know why,” Roman said idly, hoping that he could get a look into Damien’s side of things with some gentle prodding.

“It’s...it’s just embarrassing,” Damien stammered out, not looking Roman in the eye. “You know...talking about love and the like. All this talk about not doing PDA in public, and then on your wedding day you’re supposed to go all-in on it and just...make out in front of everybody, or something? And talking about love is...just really odd, in general, I find.”

No definitive answer for anything there, except that Damien wasn’t used to PDA. Great, Roman  _ still _ had nothing to work with. How was he supposed to know where he stood with Damien if Damien didn’t  _ talk _ to him? Roman certainly couldn’t say anything first! That would be uncomfortable, and Damien might misunderstand what he meant, and take it as a joke, or—

No, take a second. Breathe. Everything would be fine. Even if Damien didn’t like Roman, he was willing to make sure Roman was safe, and able to transition. That in and of itself was going above and beyond. And if falling in love wasn’t an option, well, Roman would live. It wouldn’t be  _ easy, _ by any means, but he could make it through this without Damien loving him back.

He took a bite of dinner and hummed softly. If everything else failed, he could always drown his sorrows in food. Patton was an amazing cook.

Damien kept glancing at Roman and Roman met his gaze. “What?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Damien said. “I just...your hair looks pretty in evening light. Like it’s...I don’t know,” he made a vague gesture in the air, “It’s just...it suits you. It’s pretty.”

“I prefer it short,” Roman said with a little laugh. “But thank you. It’s nice to know someone can appreciate it for me.”

Damien turned back to his plate with a red face and Roman tried to breathe. Was that flirting?! Was Damien trying to  _ flirt _ with him?! If that was the case, Roman would not make it out of the end of this week alive. He would die on the spot the second Damien flirted with him and actually complimented something about Roman that he himself liked.

“...Son, if you’re going to flirt with your fiancé, may I suggest figuring out what features she may like about herself first? Complimenting someone in areas that they’re not confident about tends to either come across as sarcastic or less believable,” the King said.

“Father!” Damien exclaimed, turning dark red as Roman giggled like a mad man about to be fed to lions.

The Queen joined in with her two cents, as well, saying, “Honestly, dearheart, perhaps it’s best you refrain from flirting at all. After all, we  _ all _ know how many problems with it you’ve had in the past.”

“I...I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of this,” Roman managed, red as a tomato himself. He turned to Damien, who held a hand in a fist over his mouth. “What happened?”

“The few times I have  _ actually _ made attempts at flirting have usually been to dignitaries who wound up being creeped out by advances, or else...one time they were the boyfriend of another prince at the party. He did  _ not _ take kindly to my trying to steal his boyfriend,” Damien mumbled.

Roman’s mother wrinkled her nose. “You flirted with a man?” she asked with disdain.

“In my defence, I thought he was a woman,” Damien said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he said it, and Roman suspected it was a blatant lie. “It was not my finest moment, though.”

Roman’s mother scoffed. “Clearly,” she said.

“Yes, go on, laugh at me. I yelled at you yesterday and you call me out for flirting with a man today. We’re even,” Damien ground out.

Roman groaned. “Must we have this argument?” he asked. “I, for one, would very much appreciate going through dinner without arguments. I’m tired, I’m stressed, I have to write vows as soon as dinner’s done or I’ll never finish them, and arguing is only going to make everything feel that much worse.”

Damien went quiet. “My apologies,” he said. “I will try and be civil.”

“You have no right to be out of line in the first place,” Roman’s mother snarled.

“Mother, enough,” Roman said. “Damien has the right to defend himself. Honestly, he’s made every attempt to be civil, and you just keep attacking him. If you’re  _ this _ uncertain about his actions, why haven’t you taken me home yet? Or are you making him a member of the family early? Setting unrealistic expectations on him as well as myself? Because I’m fairly certain that he won’t sit still and simply look good while you drag him through the mud.”

“Don’t make matters worse, my dear, I can take it,” Damien said.

“But you  _ shouldn’t have to,” _ Roman said firmly. “And so I’ll fight for you.”

“Diana, I think our children are going through enough at the moment,” the Queen said. “And I know we were friends as children, and I know that means you think I will always be on your side. But this is a far more nuanced situation than one side being right and the other being wrong. You attacking my son simply because he was trying to defend his friend’s ability to be herself, whoever that was, is not okay. He should not have treated you the way he did, true. But that does not give you the right to lash out at him.”

Roman’s mother huffed. “I fail to see why this issue is even being discussed!” she snapped. “Your son is supposed to be  _ helping _ my daughter, not enabling her!”

Roman got the very vivid image of stabbing his mother with a fork and he took a deep breath to try and get his anger back under control. “If you need us to leave, Mother, we can,” Damien said, putting one of his hands on Roman’s.

“That’s not necessary, dearheart,” the Queen said. “You shouldn’t have to leave on our account.”

Roman looked down at his plate. He still had half of the food to finish, and he felt like he might be sick, forcing himself to sit and listen to this for another single moment. Damien shifted in his seat and murmured to Roman, “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Roman sighed. “Just not a huge fan of the direction of this conversation,” he admitted.

“Then let’s change it,” Damien said. “What’s your hair-care routine? Because I would  _ kill _ for soft, fluffy hair.”

Roman burst out laughing, looking at Damien in surprise. “Oh, come on, you look handsome enough as is, if you had my hair you would probably kill me on the spot.”

“That’s the idea, my dear,” Damien said with a smirk.

“Cheeky,” Roman chastised.

As Roman took a drink, Damien remarked, “Better than naughty,” and Roman nearly choked.

“Excuse you, I have  _ talked _ with Virgil, I know  _ exactly _ what you mean by that, and no, I will not further that discussion!” Roman said with a laugh.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Damien said, lips twitching up.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure,” Roman said. “We’re still not discussing this.”

“Aw,” Damien said, looking very put-out save for the wide grin on his face. “What are we to talk about, then?”

“I have no remote clue,” Roman said, taking a bite of his food.

“Hm,” Damien hummed. “I’m afraid most of my topics of conversation usually lead down the road of bickering or banter, and I know you’d rather finish your dinner sooner than later.”

“True,” Roman allowed. “Arguing over whatever we may find interesting is not a good way to finish dinner quickly, but I want to be awake when I try and figure out my vows.”

Damien hummed his agreement, looking Roman over. “What?” Roman asked.

“You  _ are _ very pretty, I hope you realize this,” Damien said. “And pretty is not a bad thing. Anyone can be pretty. But when you get excited, you’re exceptionally pretty.”

“I  _ will _ start a food fight if you’re not careful,” Roman warned him.

Damien laughed. “Your response to receiving a genuine compliment is to start throwing whatever’s on hand?” he asked.

“You’d better believe it,” Roman said. “Never compliment me when I’m painting. Only compliment the work itself if you want to leave spotless.”

“Noted,” Damien said with a laugh. “Fact remains, though...”

Roman reached for his fork and started cutting a piece of food. “Damien Byron, don’t you dare,” he warned.

“All right, all right!” Damien laughed. “I’ll let you eat in peace.”

“Thank you,” Roman grumbled, returning to eating.

The rest of dinner Damien and Roman mostly focused on eating, while the King and Queen discussed logistics of the press at the wedding, and Roman’s mother threw in her two cents every once in a while. Roman finished his dinner, wiped at his mouth with a napkin, and said, “Well, that was delicious, but I really do need to get to work.”

“Of course, should I walk you to your room?” Damien asked, standing in time with Roman.

“You compliment me and you may find yourself at the bottom of another staircase,” Roman warned.

“Does complimenting include flirting?” Damien asked.

“Yes,” Roman said, glaring at Damien. “You flirt with me and you’re a dead man.”

“I would have assumed that would be you, but all right,” Damien said with a smirk.

“You little—!” Roman exclaimed as Damien dashed out of the room. “Get back here!”

They ran through the halls, both of them laughing as Roman poured on the speed and caught up to Damien, grabbing the back of his shirt. Damien slowed to a walk and Roman laughed, breathless. “You’re such a little shit,” Roman laughed.

“Part of my charm,” Damien said with a shameless grin.

“I wonder if you’ll be grinning that much whenever I  _ actually _ call you naughty, just to see what would happen,” Roman said innocently.

Damien instantly turned cherry red and his breath caught. “Oh, god,” he breathed. “No. Pretty men doing that to me is not allowed.” He started walking away.

Roman followed him. “You’re the one who brought it up,” Roman reminded him.

“I know, but—”

“—You can’t expect no consequences, Damien,” Roman said, a smirk toying on his lips. “Honestly, behaving the way  _ you _ have, just at dinner alone? You’re lucky we’re both busy tonight.”

“My dear, please,” Damien begged. “Not...don’t...now’s not...not a good time.”

Roman pouted. “Oh, all right,” he allowed. “But if you behave that way on our  _ wedding day, _ there will most  _ certainly _ be consequences.”

Damien nodded. “Yessir,” he said, before clamping a hand over his mouth and turning away, silently screaming into his hand as Roman cackled. “This never happened!” Damien snapped at Roman.

“Oh, it most certainly did,” Roman said, waggling his eyebrows as he continued, “And if you want more, all you ever have to do is ask.”

“No!” Damien exclaimed. He took a deep breath. “No, that won’t be necessary, my dear. Um. Are you all right walking yourself the rest of the way?”

“Yeah,” Roman said with a giggle. “Don’t worry, Damien, I’m a big boy; I can handle myself. And, just for the record?” he stood on his toes and whispered in Damien’s ear, “I’d love to hear you call me ‘sir’ again.”

Damien didn’t reply verbally, just ran down the hall, cheeks aflame. Virgil passed him in the hallway, staring at him before turning to Roman. “What did the gay disaster do this time?” he asked.

“He called me sir,” Roman said with a smirk.

“Oh,” Virgil said knowingly. “Oh, yeah, that explains a lot. Am I allowed to tease him about that?”

“Knock yourself out,” Roman said with a laugh. “He never swore me to secrecy!”

Virgil flashed Roman a peace sign and walked away, and Roman made his way to his room. He pulled out his phone and with a grin, texted Remus.  _ remus, omg, you’re never going to believe what fh just said to me! _


	23. Chapter 23

After catching Remus up on what happened after dinner, Roman sat on his bed, staring at a blank paper, pen in hand. He sighed, typing on his phone. _ honestly re, i don’t know if i can do this. writing vows seems like an impossible task _

Roman’s phone pinged almost immediately. _ you’ve got this down, roman, i know you do. have you tried being HONEST for once?_

_ew. no. not an option_ Roman said with certainty.

_ why not? _

Roman turned red and was thankful Remus wasn’t in the room. He would _ instantly _ know that Roman was crushing. Instead, he took advantage of only being able to text. _ because saying that someone is “just okay” or “better than my parents” generally doesn’t come across as good vows _

_ okay, okay, you got me there _ Remus allowed. _ what DO you like about him? what would you want to say to him were you actually in love with him? _

_ thank you? i guess? _

_ why? _

_ because...he’s an escape. he’s sweet, and he cares about what i think. he makes sure that i matter _

_ you better be writing those things down, ro, because that’s prime vows material _ Remus replied.

Roman scribbled it down dutifully and sighed. _ it still doesn’t feel like enough _

_ it never does, from what i understand. you’ll figure it out. i know you will. you always were the smart one _

_ still am, you idiot _ Roman replied with a smile and a winking emoji.

_ that’s the spirit! _ Remus took his time typing out his next text. _ do you want to string together some sentences for me? allow me to nitpick and beta-read your vows? _

_ do i have much of a choice? you’ll nitpick them after the wedding given half the chance if i don’t let you do it now _ Roman sighed, rubbing his forehead. _ i’ll give it a shot, gimme a few _

A quick confirmation from Remus and Roman was left staring at the paper on the bed, and the phone in his hands. With fingers trembling, he double-checked he and Remus weren’t in the group chat, and started to type.

_ Damien, I would be lying if I claimed to know exactly what to say to you. Despite all the words I have learned throughout my life, none of them seem to describe just how much I love you. You’re my escape from unpleasantries, with your ability to make me laugh. You ask my opinions, and my state of mind, and you listen attentively when I answer. You don’t care about all the things I hate about myself, dare I say you think they make me all the better, and I cannot fathom how that’s possible. Damien, you truly give me a chance to see myself in a new light, in YOUR light, and allow me to feel confident, if only for a moment. You never fail to make me smile, and see the silver lining in the clouds. I don’t believe in other halves, but I do believe in matching pairs, and honestly, Damien...you’re my match. It was hard to see at first—I know we got off to a rocky start—but I truly believe we’ll be in this together for the long haul. We’ll make it work. I love you, Damien, and I hope that we can be together ‘til death do us part, and beyond. _

Roman got no response for a solid two minutes after he sent that experimental text. Just as Roman was about to poke Remus, he got a one-word response: _ wow _

_ good wow? _ Roman asked, nibbling his lip.

_ roman, if you use that in the actual wedding, there won’t be a dry eye in the house. i guarantee it. and i’m sure fh will love it _ Remus replied. _ and when i say there won’t be a dry eye, i mean it. I’M tearing up at that. i wish someone would love ME that much. maybe more platonic-leaning, but... _

Roman laughed. _ you’ll find someone, re. in fact, there’s a guy here named logan who is VERY interested in meeting you. damien and i agreed that the two of you would hit it off _

_ he know I’m demiro? _ Remus asked.

_ not yet, that’s your story to tell. but he speaks out for the benefits of polyamory, and he doesn’t take crap from me OR damien. you’d def like him, even if you don’t LIKE him like him _

Remus responded with a simple _ interesting _ and Roman rolled his eyes.

_ i told him not to tell you gorey facts so you don’t think he’s flirting, you’re safe _

_ how very dare you! i’m in desperate need of gorey facts for a new fic i’m writing! _

_ you’re terrible _ Roman scoffed. _ i’ll let him know, if you want me to _

_ no, no, this could prove to be a fun challenge. see how long it takes for him to break >:) _ Remus’ evil laugh was almost audible.

_ don’t break him, he grades damien’s papers _ Roman paused, considered, and added, _ scratch that. damien might thank you for breaking him. that could get you in his good graces. do it _

_ do i NEED to be in good graces with fh? _ Remus asked.

_ for my peace of mind, yes _ Roman replied.

_ but that’s no FUN! _ Remus shot back.

Roman snorted. _ tough. suck it up anyway _

Remus’ grumbling was obvious by the way he didn’t reply. Roman laid back on his bed and sighed. He was tired, true, but he wasn’t sure he should be going to sleep quite this early, because he’d probably wake up in the middle of the night were that the case.

His mind kept on whirring with thoughts of the vows and the wedding, but when he opened his eyes next and checked the clock, six hours had gone by and it was past two in the morning. “Oh, damn it,” Roman muttered.

He checked his phone and saw that Remus hadn’t texted him in that time. Roman stood and changed into pyjamas, before padding outside his room. He had no idea where he was going, but he needed to move around. He needed to do _ something _ besides stare at the ceiling as he tried to fall back asleep. He knew that sooner or later he would have to return to bed, but right now, he felt awake enough that one little walk would hardly wipe him out.

The castle was different at night. The hallway lights were already out, the only light coming in through the windows from the stars and the moon. Roman could vaguely hear talking coming from somewhere, no doubt the guards doing their rounds.

He walked to the library, not knowing where else to go, and as he walked in, he saw a stray light on, a sleeping figure against the table, back rising and falling slowly, soft curls falling around the figure’s face, and Roman swallowed. Damien. Damien always had his hair slicked back somehow, Roman didn’t realize that it might be _ that _ curly when left alone. And it was decidedly _ adorable. _ Roman took a breath and moved forward. No matter what he thought, Damien would probably appreciate falling asleep in an actual bed rather than in the library. “Damien?” Roman asked in a hushed whisper. He took another step and reached out. “Damien.”

Damien bolted upright as Roman’s fingers brushed against his shoulder. He blinked owlishly up at Roman. “Oh. Hello my dear. What are you doing up?”

“I accidentally fell asleep too early,” Roman said. “How late did you stay up?”

Damien checked his phone. “I was only asleep for an hour,” he said, scrubbing his face. “I came in here to work on the vows, because I always focus better in the library. But the words...refused to fall into place. I texted your brother, and he said that he had seen your vows and that I would enjoy them, but...aside from him talking about little things about you I didn’t know before, I didn’t get much done.”

“Are you sure?” Roman asked, eyeing the papers that Damien had been sleeping on. “You have quite a bit written.”

“Nothing concrete that I really like,” Damien grumbled. He took a breath, and looked away. “I’m sorry, my dear. I wanted to at least give you a good wedding, if we had to be married to each other by force for the rest of our lives, but I can’t even get the vows right.”

“Hey, Damien,” Roman said softly, tilting Damien’s head over so they were looking at each other. “I don’t care about the vows. I don’t care about the music, or the dancing, or the guests, or anything else about the wedding. As long as I’m with you, this whole thing will be bearable. I promise. Just...be yourself. I promise, that’s the best thing you can be.”

“You...promise?” Damien asked, and his voice sounded so broken and small, Roman didn’t know how to respond for a minute.

“I promise, Damien,” Roman said with a smile. “We don’t have to be in love with each other to enjoy the wedding. We can have fun talking about our relatives, and dance to our hearts’ content, and you get to meet my brother. It’ll be fun, no matter what you do or don’t say for the vows, all right?”

“But...but you deserve more,” Damien said. “God, you deserve more than me, Roman. You deserve someone who knows what to say for a stupid wedding. You deserve someone who you truly love. I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me.”

“I’m not,” Roman whispered, smiling sadly. “I’m very happy I’m stuck with you.”

Damien blinked, and tears fell down his cheeks. “You’re too kind,” he breathed. “You get carted off, forced to be married to a man you’ve barely met, and you could have done anything else. You could have fought, you could have wanted nothing to do with me and told me as much, you could have run away in the middle of the night or you could have made plans to leave me at the altar. And yet...you treated me with kindness, and you still do. You’re so, so impossibly kind, and I love that about you and I can’t—” Damien took a breath. “I can’t even admit to myself how important you are to me.”

“Damien, it’s okay,” Roman said, sitting down on the table. “Something tells me you’re just very tired. If you sleep now you can probably think better in the morning, you can come up with the vows then.”

“I have—I have vows. Now. I wrote from my heart like Mother suggested and I came up with something. I just...I don’t want you to see, I don’t like them,” Damien rambled. “I don’t want you to see how desperate I am for positive attention, how much I can act like a lovesick puppy. I...” Damien swallowed. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I? You’re just a hallucination. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I should...go to bed. Because I don’t remember walking there. I couldn’t have gone to bed, I must have actually fallen asleep in the library.”

“Damien, this isn’t a dream,” Roman said. “You’re tired, sure, but I’m awake and so are you.”

“Oh,” Damien said softly. He cleared his throat, sat up straight, and gathered up his papers. “Either way, I should go to bed and so should you, my dear.”

Roman blinked at the sudden change in Damien’s demeanor. “Damien,” Roman said, putting his hand over one of Damien’s. “What’s wrong?”

Damien stood sharply, retrieving his hand. “It doesn’t matter, I’m just tired,” he said with an unconvincing smile. “I just need to go to bed, I think.”

“Okay,” Roman said reluctantly. “But if you need to talk, you know where to find me, all right?”

“All right. Good night, my love,” Damien said, kissing Roman’s forehead and leaving the room in one swift moment.

Roman watched him go in shock. Had he just said...? He had. He had called Roman “my love” instead of his usual “my dear.” _ He must be sleep deprived, _ Roman thought. That was the only explanation that made sense. Damien _ had _ been convinced he was dreaming. There was no way that he actually meant that.

_ Just like there’s no way you’re in love with him? _ a niggling voice in the back of his head nagged at him. _ Face it, honey, you’re smitten, and he likes you too. _

“That can’t be true,” Roman muttered to himself. “What could a guy like Damien _ possibly _ see in me?”

He hated to say that, because everyone around him would respond with something along the lines of, “Where do I begin?” but when he was all alone, he felt safe enough to release the question into the air.

But driving himself mad over this would get him nowhere. Without thinking, his legs moved forward through the library, back out into the hallway, where Damien’s figure was retreating. “Damien,” Roman called softly.

Damien paused and halfway turned, and Roman jogged up to him. A thousand questions were bubbling up in his throat, but he couldn’t get any of them out. Instead, he said, “I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

“Oh,” Damien said simply. “If you let me return the vows to my room we can find somewhere to sit and talk until you feel better?”

Roman smiled and nodded. “That would be nice,” he simply said.

“Follow me,” Damien said.

They walked together to Damien’s room, but Roman didn’t enter after Damien went in, sensing that he might not be that welcome in Damien’s space yet. Damien yawned as he exited the room and Roman felt a little bad. “If you want to sleep, you can. I’m sure I can find someone else to keep me company,” Roman said.

“Nonsense, my love, I can stay with you for at least another hour before I become too tired to function tomorrow morning,” Damien waved off.

“Why do you do that?” Roman asked as Damien started walking.

“Do what?” Damien asked.

“You called me ‘my love’ twice in the span of ten minutes,” Roman said.

Damien frowned. “I did?”

“You did,” Roman confirmed. “Usually you call me ‘my dear’ rather than ‘my love.’ I’m just a little confused.”

“Oh,” Damien said softly. “I just...I mean, I assumed we were close enough, I guess...my mind skipped to ‘my love’ because I’m tired and I consider us good friends.”

Roman’s heart sank without warning. “You call your friends ‘my love’?” he asked skeptically.

“I call my friends pet names, yes,” Damien said. “Admittedly, ‘my love’ is a new one, but I’m very tired. If you don’t like it, I can stop...”

“No!” Roman said, just a hair too quickly. “No, I like it. I was just confused.”

Damien nodded and sat down on a flight of steps, and Roman joined him. “I am sorry if I’ve caused you any discomfort while you were here,” Damien said. “I want only the best for you, Roman.That includes me being the best man I can be.”

Roman stroked Damien’s cheek. “You’re perfect just the way you are,” he said to Damien with a soft smile.

“You’re too kind, my dear,” Damien said, leaning into the touch just enough for Roman to feel it.

“I would argue that would be you, but okay,” Roman said with a small laugh.

Damien smiled, leaning against the wall. “God, I’m exhausted,” he breathed.

“Same,” Roman yawned. “Do you want to go to bed?”

“Not just yet,” Damien said. “Right now, I just want to spend some time with you.”

“All right,” Roman said.

They lapsed into silence. Roman rested his head on Damien’s shoulder, enjoying the sensation of another warm body against his own. Damien’s breathing was steady, syncing up to Roman’s. Roman took a deep breath and sighed, and subtly nuzzled into Damien’s side. Damien didn’t say anything, just wrapped an arm around Roman’s shoulders. The sound of guards walking through the castle below them lulled Roman into a light sleep, eyes slipping closed without him telling them to do so.

When he woke up next, it was to the sound of snickering above him. “Oh, this is priceless,” a familiar voice murmured.

Roman stirred and blinked awake. “Mm. Virgil?”

“Good morning, Your Highness. Came up here for my morning rounds only to find out that you and Damien have been secretly cuddling for hours.”

Roman sat up, noticing he had somehow moved from Damien’s shoulder to his chest while he was asleep. Damien’s eyes fluttered beneath his eyelids and he groaned. “Wha’s happened?” he slurred.

“How long have you two been here?” Virgil asked.

“What time is it?” Roman asked.

“Four forty five, just about,” Virgil said.

“Then about two and a half to three hours,” Roman replied, standing up. “Oh, my back is gonna kill me.”

Damien swayed to his feet. “I’m going to bed for a few more hours,” he said definitively. “Good night, my love.”

“Night, Damien,” Roman said, allowing Damien to kiss his temple before he left.

Virgil was smirking at Roman, and Roman rolled his eyes. “No, you did not miss a love confession, Virgil. I just got upgraded to ‘close friend’ in Damien’s books, apparently.”

“Very close friend, if he kisses your temple and calls you his love,” Virgil snickered.

“Shut up and leave me alone if you’re just going to tease me,” Roman said. “Unless there’s some pressing matter or another, I’m going back to bed too.”

“Oh, yeah, go get your sleep,” Virgil said. “You’re gonna have to talk to the justice of the peace this morning.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Roman groaned, waving to Virgil as he walked down the hall.

Roman stumbled to his room and face planted into the bed, falling asleep quickly, thoughts of cuddling Damien swirling in his head and putting a sleepy smile on his face.


	24. Chapter 24

Roman didn’t know how long he had slept after getting back to bed, but he knew it hadn’t been too long because he was still somewhat groggy as his mother knocked on his door to wake him up. He pushed up in bed just as his mother barged in and he blinked at her. “I’m glad I still wear sweatpants to bed,” he said drily.

“Oh, hush, Veronica. The justice of the peace is here, you need to get dressed!”

“And you couldn’t let me dress myself because...?” Roman asked as his mother rooted through his suitcase.

“You need to look acceptable, dear, nothing risqué!” his mother snapped.

“I didn’t  _ pack _ anything risqué, Mother, not unless you count my briefs and the bras you force me to wear,” Roman said with an eye-roll.

His mother tutted. “We’re going to have to talk to the tailor about the first night of your honeymoon, in that case.”

“We’re not letting the tailor make me lingerie,” Roman said. “My briefs will be fine. I have the matching bra to go with that one set you forced me to buy, I can save that for the wedding, everything will be fine, Mother, now will you let me change privately?!”

His mother huffed at him. “No need to be hostile, young lady.”

“You’re standing in the middle of my bedroom, going through  _ my _ clothes to get  _ me _ dressed for  _ my _ meeting with the justice of the peace. Something tells me this is not a common occurrence in other families, and I would appreciate it if we too, left it to be an uncommon occurrence,” Roman said, grabbing his clothes free from his mother’s grasp and pointing to the door. “I’ll get changed now. Out.”

His mother didn’t move and Roman rolled his eyes, starting to pull off his shirt anyway. With a screech of offense not unlike a pterodactyl, his mother  _ finally _ left the room. Roman grinned as he finished pulling off his shirt, grabbing a sports bra and an old T-shirt for the day. He didn’t feel like trying to impress anyone, not today.

When he had finished dressing, he walked out of the room to find his mother waiting for him. Roman rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not changing,” he said.

“You look like you’re just going to sit in your room playing on your computer all day!” his mother sputtered. “You can’t dress like that for the justice of the peace!”

Roman stared her dead in the eye and said, “Watch me.”

He turned on his heel and walked away, pulling his hair into a low ponytail to keep it out of his face. He was going to head to the kitchen to grab something to eat, until his mother roughly grabbed his arm. “Veronica. Change. Now.”

“No,” Roman said, trying to tug his arm free while not looking back at his mother.

“Veronica, that was not a request,” his mother warned.

Roman worked his jaw, roughly wrenching his arm free, rubbing at where his mother’s claws dug into his skin, leaving marks. “No,” he said. “You’re not in charge of me, and the wedding isn’t for another three days, I have no reason to dress up at this point in time. I’m going downstairs, and I’m getting breakfast, and when the justice of the peace wants to talk to me, he can.”

“Of course I’m in charge of you, I am your mother!” his mother exclaimed as he walked away.

“Yeah, and I’m a fully-grown adult, which means I can make my own decisions!” Roman tossed over his shoulder.

He walked down a flight of steps to find Damien leaning against a wall at the bottom. “You’re growing bolder,” he said simply.

“I’m caring less and less as we get closer and closer to my liberation day,” Roman said wryly.

Damien snorted. “That’s certainly one thing to call it,” he said, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Care to have breakfast with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Roman said with a smile.

They walked together to the kitchen, Damien humming under his breath. “I forget that you can sing,” Roman said casually. “And then you hum and I just go, ‘Oh, yeah. That’s a thing.’”

“A good thing?” Damien asked.

“A thing that can woo many a man,” Roman said with a little laugh. “I’m surprised you don’t have men throwing themselves at you.”

Damien scoffed. “Please. So many men can do so much better than this klutzy prince.”

Roman shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it’s rather charming. You’d be a catch for anyone, if only you had the self-confidence to match your skills.”

“And therein lies the problem. I have no self-confidence,” Damien said simply.

“Why not?” Roman asked. “I mean, seriously, Damien you’re...”

“What? Nerdy? A geek? A klutz?” Damien asked.

“You’re cool,” Roman said. “And like, I know that doesn’t seem like much, and I know it’s subjective, but...I think you’re really cool. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

Damien shrugged. “I’m not so sure about that,” he said. “I mean, you may see me as cool, but like you said, cool is subjective.”

“Doesn’t mean that others  _ won’t _ find you cool,” Roman said.

“I mean, sure, but...it still doesn’t seem like it’s going to take me very far,” Damien sighed.

Roman wanted to argue, but at this point they had reached the kitchen, so Roman just shrugged. “Continue this after breakfast?”

“I’d rather not,” Damien said. “I don’t want to get into an argument about my self-worth. It sucks, I know it sucks, and I’m trying to get better at it but nothing is going to happen right away and I know self-deprecation is not welcome when you’re trying to feel better about yourself, but...I just have a lot on my mind right now and I don’t want to add more to the useless brain soup I’m slowly becoming.”

“Oh, fine,” Roman sighed. “But if you self-deprecate more, I  _ will _ whack your arm to try and get you to stop it.”

Damien snorted in surprise. “You know, that might be a deceptively powerful motivator.”

Roman smiled and across the kitchen, Patton squealed. “Aw, you two are so cute together!” he exclaimed.

Roman laughed and Damien turned a slight pink. “We’re not together, Patton,” Roman said.

“You’re standing next to each other, which is together in my book,” Patton said.

Roman rolled his eyes. “Oh. You’re using a different connotation than I thought of.”

“Yeah, it happens,” Patton chirped. “What can I get the two of you for breakfast?”

Damien shrugged. “Anything with orange juice on the side,” he said.

Patton nodded. “Roman?”

“Uh...a bagel with an obscene amount of cream cheese?” he asked. “I don’t have an answer as to why. I just...want cream cheese.”

“Coming right up!” Patton said, beginning to putter about. “You know, Virgil showed me some pictures early this morning...did you two really fall asleep cuddling on the steps?”

Roman turned beet red and Damien growled. “Virgil is a dead man,” he vowed.

“Oh, no,” Roman breathed. “How many people did he show pictures to?”

“Just me,” Patton said. “Really hush-hush about it, too.”

“Well, that at least is good, I guess,” Roman said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, he sometimes tries to flirt by showing me pictures I find interesting,” Patton said with a shrug. “He’s slowly coming around.”

“Aw, that’s cute!” Roman exclaimed. “At this rate you two might be together by the end of the year!”

“It’s spring now, you know, my love,” Damien gently reminded him.

“Oh, yeah, I know. Virgil has nine months to get the cajones to admit that he likes Patton, or I’m locking the two of them in the kitchen together until they make out,” Roman informed Damien.

Patton laughed. “I will admit I wouldn’t be against that!” he exclaimed. “I love that man, he just needs to accept that polyamory is cool and he can date me and Logan, and everything will turn out okay.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Logan?! He likes Logan too?!” Roman exclaimed.

“Yeah, he’s still in the very early stages, however,” Damien said. “Avoidance. When he finally accepts the crush, he’ll talk to Logan again, but until then, he’s avoiding Logan at all costs.”

“I’m playing matchmaker,” Roman decided. “No question about it, I’m making that happen. And maybe throw Remus in there too so he has a good reason to visit frequently beyond just seeing me.”

“Does there need to be a reason just beyond seeing you?” Damien asked, voice inching into the soft but deadly territory.

“For him, if he wants to ‘keep up appearances’ or whatever,” Roman rolled his eyes. “He likes to pretend he hates my guts to our friends. Everyone knows it’s a joke, but despite that he likes to pretend anyway. I hope he grows out of it at some point, but I’m not holding my breath.”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll break his kneecaps,” Damien offered. “Because you should be more than reason enough to visit. You’re important, my love.”

“You know, Damien, the last time you casually called someone ‘my love,’ do you remember what happened?” Patton asked with an innocent smile as he came over with breakfast.

Damien’s eyes narrowed at Patton and he said softly, “Don’t.”

“You don’t remember?” Patton asked.

“Don’t bring this up,” Damien ground out.

Roman looked between them, trying to chew as quietly as possible so they weren’t reminded of his presence.

“I’m just letting you know...”

“And I’m just  _ telling _ you to  _ drop it,” _ Damien growled. “I don’t like Roman in the way you’re insinuating, and I don’t appreciate you implying otherwise.”

“Oh, just what every guy  _ loves _ to hear,” Roman said, rolling his eyes.

Damien turned to Roman and said, “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“—I know how you meant it,” Roman said sullenly. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not to say that you aren’t—”

“—Aren’t what?” Roman challenged. “Pretty? Handsome? Worth someone’s time? What?”

“—His type,” Patton filled in helpfully.

“Patton, I swear—” Damien started.

“Oh, shut up, Damien!” Roman snapped. “Patton is clearly just trying to lighten the mood! Don’t bite his head off for it!”

Damien stared at Roman, startled. His eyes were searching Roman’s face, but Roman turned to his bagel. He was tired of Damien threatening people, he was tired of people teasing the both of them in general, he just wanted this to be  _ over. _ He wanted to get the wedding over with, live in separate rooms of the castle and just be doomed to like someone who didn’t like him back. He was...done. He was done with this whole situation.

“I...I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Patton stammered out. “Clearly, I underestimated how sore this spot was.”

“Clearly,” Damien groused.

Roman silently ate his bagel, not acknowledging either of them. He needed space, but unfortunately, the kind of space he needed wasn’t going to be attainable here. He just wanted to be alone with no distractions, except for maybe his computer. He wanted to rant to his friends about the stupid situation he found himself in. Unfortunately, he was stuck without his friends, without contact with them, and the only people he could talk to were Remus and everyone in this stupid castle.

His eyes stung and Roman inwardly cursed. Not now, not now! He didn’t want to deal with crying right now! He tore into his bagel, willing himself to chew faster, so he could get out of here sooner, so no one had to see the tears—

But he blinked. And the tears fell. All of a sudden Damien’s shock turned into concern, and Patton was looking him over carefully. Roman pretended to not notice, not saying anything. Not trusting his voice. He continued to eat until he had finished, at which point he stood and silently walked out of the room. Immediately, he heard arguing start up in the kitchen, and Roman covered his ears. God, everything was too much right now and he didn’t know how to handle it, he didn’t know how to solve this problem without getting in deep trouble with his mother when she inevitably nosed into his business and figured out he was trying to redownload the apps he used to talk to friends.

He stopped walking through the halls, his whole body trembling and shaking. He was on the brink of a panic attack, and he didn’t know if breathing exercises would help him this time. Trying anyway couldn’t hurt, so he made the attempt.

When someone he didn’t recognize walked up to him and slowly brought his hands down from where they were still positioned over his ears, they asked softly, “Do you need to be somewhere quiet?”

Roman sniffled and nodded. He didn’t want to deal with people right now, but if this person could help him hide away from other, more stressful people, he’d put up with their concern. They led him down the hallways until they reached a small room with two chairs, one of which was covered in papers. “Excuse the mess,” they said. “I’m trying to get everything set up for the wedding but it’s a lot to go through.”

Nodding, Roman sat down in the non-covered chair while the other person puttered around, picking up papers and quietly muttering to themselves. When they finally settled into the chair opposite Roman, Roman had stopped crying and felt marginally calmer. “Feel better, Roman?” they asked.

“Yeah,” Roman admitted. “Forgive me for asking, but who are you?”

The person adjusted their glasses and laughed. “I’m Louis. The justice of the peace for your wedding.”

“Oh,” Roman said, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“It’s quite all right that you didn’t know,” he said. “From what I understand you aren’t very familiar with this area, let alone the people in it.”

“You’re not wrong,” Roman sighed. “I have no friends from before I got outed in the area.”

“Is that why you were panicking?” Louis asked.

“A little bit,” Roman admitted. “I just...miss my friends, and I miss my freedom, and I wish I didn’t have to be here. Coming here voluntarily is one thing, but being  _ forced _ here...”

“Understandable,” Louis said, nodding. “I did plan on speaking to you about the wedding. Do you feel up to that task about now?”

“I suppose,” Roman said noncommittally.

“If you don’t, I could always speak to Damien first, but unfortunately, we do need to go over things about the ceremony today. After all, the wedding rehearsal is in two days.”

“The rehearsal?” Roman asked, voice an octave too high. He forgot about the rehearsal!

“We’ve made it so you won’t have to wear the suit,  _ or _ a dress, Roman, it’s quite all right,” Louis said. “The King explained the situation and I suggested a smaller rehearsal with just immediate family, and no dress-up required. You can stay in whatever you were wearing that day, and the next morning you’ll get your hair cut short and put on the suit, and be the man you’ve always been inside.”

Roman offered Louis a smile. “That’s awfully considerate of you,” he said. “Thank you for being in on this.”

“Roman, I’ve known Damien for years, since he was first discovering his sexuality. To say I was shocked when I thought he would be marrying a woman would be a great understatement. I want to make  _ both _ of you as comfortable as you can be during this time. Speaking of...” Louis continued, voice soft and low as if talking to a wounded animal, “...Are you comfortable sharing your vows at the rehearsal?”

Roman thought about it. He thought about Remus’ reaction to his vows and knew that he would be supportive. He started to smile as he thought about Damien’s potential reaction.

...But then he thought about his mother and father, and knew that they would critique the vows to hell and back given half the chance if they heard them before the wedding. And that smile dropped. “I would, but if my parents are there then it won’t be a good idea. If they can critique the vows, they will. And I’d really rather keep them the way they are. I think it’s for the best.”

“I think so too,” Louis said. “I haven’t heard them, but I’m of the opinion that any vows spoken straight from the heart are better than ones pruned to be non-offensive or to make people more ‘comfortable.’”

Roman smiled slightly. “I like you, Louis. I like your style.”

“Thank you,” Louis said with a little smile. “Oh, and if I may make a suggestion, don’t snap at Damien too much when he gets agitated. Because we both know he gets agitated when people tease him. And if it hasn’t happened already, it will soon. He’s very touchy about people saying that he’s in love.”

Roman turned pink. “It’s a bit late for that advice. I was tired this morning, and I needed...I needed a calm that I wasn’t getting from Damien and I...may have yelled at him to shut up when Patton was teasing him to try and lighten the bleak mood.”

“Ah, he won’t hold it against you,” Louis said, patting Roman’s hand. “But you might have some explaining and some apologizing to do.”

“Yeah,” Roman breathed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Louis smiled. “Do you want to do that now? Or later? Because I know that if Damien has figured out I’m here, he’ll be knocking on the door any mi—”

There was a knock on the door and Roman rolled his eyes. “Oh, joy,” he breathed. “I’m not ready to talk to Damien just yet.”

“Don’t worry, dear, I can keep him distracted,” Louis said, standing to answer. “Damien, I’m currently a bit busy.”

“Is Roman in there? I need to speak to him,” Damien said.

“Roman is here, yes, but I need to speak with him more right now. He’s calm, and unharmed, I assure you, but we need to go over what’s going to happen for the wedding and you cannot be in the room when I hear his vows. It’s better kept as a surprise.”

Damien sighed. “Louis, I appreciate the sentiment, truly, but—”

“Roman has said he wants a bit of space at the moment,” Louis said, cutting Damien off.

There was a period of silence where Roman held his breath, before Damien said, “Very well. Call me when you need me, and give Roman my best.”

“Of course,” Louis said, closing the door. He walked back over to his chair, sat down, and said, “Damien gives you his best.”

Roman laughed, hands coming up to cover his mouth as giggles slipped past. Louis smiled. “Now, how about you tell me these out-of-this-world vows, huh?”

Hesitantly, Roman pulled out his phone and did so, and Louis beamed the entire time. “That is absolutely  _ perfect, _ Roman,” Louis said. “And I agree. Those are best left to be a surprise.”

Roman nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”

Louis smiled. “Now, I  _ do _ need to talk to Damien. If you want, I can force him in here before he starts to interrogate you on your panic earlier.”

“I’d...honestly really appreciate that,” Roman breathed. “I’m sorry if it creates extra work for you.”

“No extra work, and even if it did, it wouldn’t be a problem,” Louis said, standing.

Roman stood as well and offered Louis a smile. “Thanks for talking to me,” Roman said.

“Roman, the pleasure was all mine,” Louis said, opening the door.

No sooner did Roman leave the room than Damien was on him, trying to ask him questions. But Louis just grabbed Damien by the shoulders and said, “No, come on, loverboy, you have a date with me before you have a date with him.”

Roman laughed and waved to Damien as he was dragged into the room, and Roman sighed, glancing at his phone. He would kill for his friends right now, honestly.

Virgil strolled up to him and said, “Hey. You up for walking with me for a bit to keep yourself occupied?”

“Sure,” Roman agreed with a smile. Maybe...he could make some new friends during these trying times.


	25. Chapter 25

“So, word on the street is that you and Damien had a little spat this morning,” Virgil said casually.

“How fast does news travel around here?!” Roman asked incredulously.

“Oh, the kitchen is the hot spot of gossip, hot stuff, you never want to tell anyone anything there,” Virgil said with a mischievous smile.

“Good to know,” Roman sighed. “Yeah, I told him to shut up because Patton was teasing him and Damien was starting to get mad. I just wanted the arguing and the anger to take a backseat for a bit. I wanted a quiet morning. Why is that so hard to get?”

“Because you live in a castle where the Crown Prince has been known to fall down a flight of stairs from staring at a pretty boy’s smile too long,” Virgil said. “He’s not the embodiment of chaos but he’s not exactly the poised and collected leader the masses are expecting him to be.”

“I’m not sure whether to argue that I’m not pretty or to argue that the embodiment of chaos is my brother,” Roman mused.

“You  _ are _ pretty Your Highness. I can’t speak to the chaos of your brother—”

“—Yet, at any rate. He’s coming to the wedding, you know,” Roman pointed out.

“And I might just strangle him,” Virgil said.

“He’s shown an interest in Logan when I talk about him,” Roman said, almost  _ too _ casual.

“Oh, I’m definitely strangling him,” Virgil said.

“Relax. Logan has spoken about polyamory. If you want to date both him and Patton, I’m almost positive he would accept that arrangement,” Roman said.

“I don’t like—!” Virgil stopped in the middle of his protest, and sighed. “Is it  _ that _ obvious?”

“Honey,  _ Patton _ knows you like Patton.  _ Damien _ knows you’re avoiding Logan. It’s only a matter of time before the whole castle knows,” Roman said with a smirk.

Virgil sighed. “Fine. I’ll talk to them at the wedding. Maybe.”

“You have nine months to confess to them or I lock you three in the kitchen.”

Virgil turned crimson. “That  _ most certainly _ will not be necessary, and if you try, Your Highness, I  _ will _ kick your ass.”

Roman arched an eyebrow. “Oh? And what’s to say I won’t fight back and make you regret that decision?”

“Are you suggesting a duel to assess each other’s strengths?” Virgil asked.

“And if I am?” Roman replied, smirking.

“I would say after the wedding and the honeymoon, when you can afford to feel sore all over,” Virgil said with a wink.

Roman laughed incredulously. “You little—!”

“Yeah?” Virgil asked, shoving Roman playfully.

“Yeah!” Roman said back, shoving Virgil harder.

Virgil shoved back, sending Roman nearly flying into the wall. Roman laughed, body slamming Virgil and sending him sprawling on the ground. Virgil growled and in one swift movement, was on his feet and had pinned Roman to a wall with his arms trapped over his head. Roman tried to squirm out of Virgil’s grasp, but Virgil just gripped his arms harder until Roman winced. “Ow,” Roman breathed.

“Say ‘uncle,’” Virgil said with a smirk.

“Go to hell,” Roman scoffed.

Virgil let him go and Roman rubbed his arms. “You need to seriously chill,” Roman grumbled. “I was just trying to play-fight, not trying to get myself pinned to the wall.”

“In the future, if you want to play-fight you may not want to do it with a guard,” Virgil advised. “Official training, and all that.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “What, and you can’t turn that off?”

“Wha—no! No, I cannot! I cannot just forfeit my training whenever I feel like it and then suddenly get it back when I’m on the job!” Virgil exclaimed.

“Well, then, I pity the day a child decides to play a prank on you,” Roman deadpanned.

“I wouldn’t do that to a child!” Virgil protested.

“How can you guarantee that, especially if you don’t see the child until they’re in front of you  _ after _ you’ve disarmed them?” Roman challenged.

Virgil shrugged. “Usually their giggling gives it away.”

“Usually being the operative word there,” Roman shot back. “You can’t guarantee that!”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Are you always this annoying?” he asked.

“You’ve talked to me for a couple days now, what do you think?” Roman quipped.

“I’m inclined to say yes,” Virgil said, arching an eyebrow.

Roman playfully shoved Virgil and Virgil smirked. “You know, I bet if you did that in the bedroom with Damien—”

“Virgil, I swear to god you finish that sentence and I will play double dutch with your intestines and force you to watch,” Damien said, walking up to the two of them.

“That’s disgusting,” Roman said, wrinkling his nose.

“Thank you, I got it from your brother,” Damien said with a pleased little grin as Virgil closed his mouth with a click.

Roman rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Of course you’d get on with him,” he sighed. “How did your talk with the justice of the peace go?”

“He whacked me over the head with his papers when I said I didn’t know what I was going to do for my vows,” Damien grumbled. “And then I admitted I had some ideas, and read one of them, and he hit me more, saying that they were apparently perfect.”

Roman was admittedly curious, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to poke that bear. “That sounds interesting,” Roman said. “Has that ever happened before?”

“Only every time Damien’s an idiot,” Virgil snickered. “He and Louis go way back.”

Damien glared at Virgil, but Virgil just smiled benignly. “Could we not do this for once?” Roman asked with a sigh. “I’m so tired of all the teasing and the fighting, it’s really starting to wear on me.”

“I’m just trying to keep them from teasing us,” Damien justified.

“Not happenin’, loverboy,” Virgil shot back.

“See, this is what I mean!” Roman exclaimed. “Boys, I need a break sometimes. This is really stressful for me. I could use a break whenever I’m away from my mother, not more but different BS than what she’s been giving me.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Damien sighed. “I’ll try and tone it down, my dear.”

“Thank you,” Roman said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry for snapping at you earlier.”

“It’s fine my dear,” Damien said with a shrug. “Do you want to go outside for a bit with me? I figured just a little time away from everyone might help. And if you want to sit away from me, as well, that’s okay.”

“Sure,” Roman sighed.

Damien walked down the hall with Roman following a step behind, and Virgil kept an eye on them, staying just far enough behind to make Roman think that they were alone until Virgil sneezed. Roman jumped and Damien snickered. “It’s not funny,” Roman sulked.

“Ah, Virgil’s going to follow us until he knows we’re within sight even if we’re outside,” Damien advised.

“I would have appreciated a warning before now,” Roman grumbled.

“Sorry,” Damien said with a small shrug. “I thought that was something you might be used to from your own castle.”

“Not really,” Roman sighed. “I wasn’t really allowed outside much because our castle is unfortunately set up in the middle of a city.”

“I forget that’s the case for most kingdoms,” Damien muttered, more to himself than Roman.

“You need to brush up on your geography, then,” Roman said.

“Maybe so, my love,” Damien said.

“...What was Patton talking about earlier? With the last time you called someone ‘my love’ casually?” Roman asked.

Damien grew quiet. “We wound up dating for a while,” Damien admitted. “And it was, by far, the messiest break up that I have ever been through when he called it off. I was inconsolable for weeks. I only left my room when forced. It was...not pretty. And I don’t like being reminded of it.”

“Oh,” Roman said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, my dear. You didn’t know. Patton did, however, which was why I didn’t want him bringing it up,” Damien said.

“Did he also bring up that you didn’t start calling him ‘my love’ until the two of you started dating?” Virgil asked from behind him. “Because knowing Patton,  _ that _ was his point. Not the messy breakup.”

Damien sighed. “Regardless of his intentions, that’s what he reminded me of. That’s left me in a rather sour mood.”

“I get that,” Roman sighed. “All the fighting has been that for me.”

They walked outside and Roman took a breath in the morning air. Roman smiled, just a little bit. Damien dragged him to a patch of wildflowers going down the mountain. “These aren’t part of the garden,” Damien said. “You’re welcome to pick them, if you want still life art subjects.”

“Good to know,” Roman said, inspecting the small white and purple buds. He picked a couple of them and began weaving the stems around each other. “I think I’ll make you a little something, instead, though.”

“Oh?” Damien asked.

“Yeah,” Roman laughed, sitting down and picking a few more flowers.

Damien sat down next to him and stared out at the sky. Virgil left them and Damien murmured, “Do you ever feel like the life of a prince might just be the loneliest life there is?”

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. “There are days where I feel like that.”

“How do you handle it?” Damien asked. “When you crave companionship that you simply...cannot have?”

“Sometimes, I would make up imaginary friends,” Roman said, not looking up from the flowers in his hands. “Or boyfriends, as I got older. As I realized who I was. And that sometimes helped. Having imaginary conversations with people who would understand.”

“Maybe I should try that,” Damien said.

“Maybe you should get married,” Roman joked.

Damien barked a laugh. “Maybe I should,” he said, tucking his knees up to his chest and resting his arms on his knees.

Roman placed a completed flower crown on Damien’s head with a grin. “There you go! Your gift!” Roman beamed.

Damien felt at the flower crown on his head and offered Roman a little smile. “You are aware that inside, there are actual crowns I can wear, that are made of actual gold?”

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t wear a flower crown.”

Damien picked some flowers of his own and made Roman a flower crown too, placing it gently on Roman’s head. “There. A flower crown fit for a prince such as yourself.”

Roman laughed and flung his arms around Damien in a hug. Damien brought one of his arms up to the small of Roman’s back to return the hug. “I hope you know that you’re the best fiancé a guy like me could ask for,” Roman mumbled into Damien’s chest.

“You deserve so much more than me,” Damien mumbled. “But thank you.”

“I really don’t think that, you know,” Roman said.

“Think what?” Damien asked.

“That I could do better than you,” Roman said with a little laugh. “You literally sang  _ 500 Miles _ to me and I almost instantly felt like maybe the wedding wouldn’t be so bad.”

Damien buried his face in his hands, but the tips of his ears were cherry red. “I’m glad you liked it,” he choked out. “I...um...I thought that maybe...maybe you’d read between the lines of the song, but you haven’t said anything...”

“Read between the lines?” Roman repeated dumbly. His heart was racing. What was Damien talking about?

“I mean...I just hoped...” Damien shrugged. “You know what? It’s stupid—”

“—No, it’s not. It’s not stupid to you. I want to know what you meant,” Roman almost pleaded.

Damien licked his lips and swallowed, before he let out a shaky breath. “Oh, God, this is far worse than I remembered...”

Roman waited with baited breath, watching Damien closely. It almost sounded like...like he was confessing to something that Roman couldn’t even begin to hope for.

And just like that, the moment was gone, as Virgil rushed over to them and exclaimed, “Your Highnesses!”

Damien cursed rather colorfully under his breath and stood, red in the face. “Virgil, you could  _ not _ have worse timing!”

“His mother’s on the warpath,” Virgil said, nodding to Roman, who stood at once. “She’s been looking for the both of you, apparently.”

Damien cursed more. “Can’t she leave us alone for fifteen minutes?!” he snapped. “I was trying to have an honest conversation! She’s...she’s...!”

Roman’s mother approached behind Virgil, nostrils flared. “What am I?” she seethed.

“You’re getting in the way,” Damien growled.

Roman’s mother snarled and Roman just watched on, eyes wide. “What are you two wearing?!” she scoffed. “Take those off, right now!”

“No,” Damien said, crossing his arms. “This was a gift, I’m not removing it.”

There were more people approaching, and Roman swallowed. They looked like dignitaries, the type who would gossip at the slightest hint of war. “Young man, you do not want to test me. Take that off.”

Damien shook his head.

Roman’s mother tsked. “You’re just  _ that _ childish, are you? Unwilling to admit your faults, running around starting paint wars, food fights, picking an argument with anyone you see? Honestly, you’re more childish than my son is, and that is a truly extraordinary feat! You’re stubborn, pig-headed, and crude to boot! If this wedding weren’t so close I would forcibly separate you from my daughter and you would  _ never _ see her again! You—”

Roman’s patience snapped. “Mother, that is  _ enough!” _ he hollered.  _ “You’re _ the one who set this wedding up! Don’t think I don’t know what you did to make it happen! If you have so little faith in Damien, then you should just call off the wedding and leave me in my bedroom for all eternity to  _ rot! _ Because  _ that _ would be much preferable to the situation you’re setting up here!

“Damien is funny, and charming, and he’s been nothing but a gentleman to me since I’ve come here! I would be  _ happy _ to marry him, and yet here  _ you _ are, trying to drag his reputation through the mud! What, was two children not  _ enough _ for you? Do you need control over  _ more _ of the next generation of rulers? Do you just not care about my feelings enough to consider how I might feel when that is  _ my future husband _ you’re hurting?! Oh, wait, what am I talking about?! You  _ never _ care about my  _ fucking feelings! _ You never did! Otherwise, you wouldn’t have set up this wedding in the first place! And I’m not speaking to you until you apologize to Damien for talking about him the way you do!”

Roman stormed off through the crowd of people, tears stinging his eyes as he rushed back into the castle. Without warning, a rough hand grabbed his arm and Damien growled, “You and I need to have a talk.”

Suddenly far more afraid than he had  _ ever _ been around his mother, he let Damien drag him down to a basement area, at which point Damien started pacing the length of the hallway they found themselves in. Roman’s heart was pounding. He felt like Damien was going to kill him, either for being too stupid or too brave, for throwing the both of them up to the top of the creek without a paddle. “I honestly wanted to believe that you  _ couldn’t _ do something that stupid, Roman,” Damien growled. “I really, really did.”

Roman’s irritation flared up over his fear. “Well, excuse me for trying to defend you!” Roman exclaimed. “After it was made clear that you weren’t allowed to defend either of us, someone has to! That verbal assault is damaging to hear on loop for hours on end!”

“Yes, but the mental toll that your Mother is going to put on  _ you _ after this is far more than any one person can comfortably handle! I could have taken the hit before, but now I can’t! Honestly, my dear, why would you do something so  _ stupid?!” _ Damien asked, pacing the floor.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because  _ I love you!” _ Roman hollered back. “Maybe I don’t want my mother dragging you through the mud over one simple disagreement! Maybe I care about you too much to allow that to happen!”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t make jokes about love anymore!” Damien seethed.

A silence hung over them. Determination burned in Roman's eyes as he quietly spat, “Who’s joking?”

Damien stared at him in silence. Ten, twenty, thirty seconds passed. Roman’s heart sank further with every second that ticked by, and still, Damien said nothing. Roman laughed bitterly. “And of course, you don’t reciprocate. I’ve been trying to get you to tell me one way or another this entire time and you’ve done absolutely nothing. You’ve dodged every question I’ve thrown at you. Obviously, you don’t feel the same and you simply don’t know how to tell me. Well, rest assured, your message has been received! I’m doomed to be married to someone who doesn’t love me back for the rest of my life! I’ve got your message loud and clear! You don’t have to say it!”

“My dear...” Damien said softly. “Wait—please. I...” he took a shaky breath, and he started to laugh. Roman just watched miserably. Damien thought this was laughable? “I want to—I thought—That is to say...” Damien shook his head. “I thought I was alone in my feelings.”

Roman’s heart may as well have stopped. He wasn’t sure if the roaring in his ears was blood being pumped through his veins or if it was his brain short-circuiting. “Alone? But...but when we agreed not to make jokes...”

“It wasn’t because I didn’t like them, my dear, it was because you always got upset afterwards,” Damien said, walking closer. “I can only assume because you thought I did not reciprocate. But joking about being light and happy and in love...it makes my own heart skip beats. And seeing you retreat in on yourself and become sad or self-conscious after making them hurt me more than I can describe.”

“And you never said you could love me whenever you listed people who would be acceptable suitors for me because...?”

“Well, I assumed you wanted nothing to do with me if we’re forced to be married at the end of the week,” Damien said with a small laugh. “That, and I was far too embarrassed about how quickly I fell for you and far too convincing that you would never love a hopeless mess of a man such as myself.”

“You’re not a mess,” Roman said. “Modern art may look like random messy splotches of paint on canvas to one person, but to another it can be the most beautiful masterpiece in the world. And Damien...you’re that masterpiece. You’re  _ my _ masterpiece.”

Damien blinked, and Roman was shocked when he saw tears fall. “Never before have I been so moved by an analogy using one of my worst pastimes,” Damien laughed. “Even so, I...I greatly appreciate it, my dear. Truly. I...I love you too. That’s what I was trying to tell you...with the wildflowers. I couldn’t...I couldn’t hold it back. I didn’t  _ want to _ hold it back. I wanted to tell you, even if you didn’t reciprocate, just so we could be honest with each other.”

Roman’s lower lip trembled and he threw himself into Damien’s arms, squeezing him tight and crying. “Oh, god, I thought I was alone!” he laughed. “I thought that you could never love me! You’re so out of my league!”

“No, I would argue that’s you, my dear,” Damien laughed.

Roman punched Damien’s back and Damien made a soft  _ oof _ sound. “Shut up,” Roman ordered. “You’re not allowed to make me this emotional and let me angst over my feelings this much ever again.”

“Okay,” Damien laughed, burying his head in Roman’s shoulder.

Roman could have stayed like that forever, just hugging Damien tight, but all too soon, Damien stepped back. “They’re going to be looking for the both of us, I expect,” Damien sighed. “Do you want to go back upstairs and bite the bullet?”

“Not just yet,” Roman said. “Can we just sit on the steps and relax for a moment?”

“Anything for you, my love,” Damien said with a smile.


	26. Chapter 26

They sat in companionable silence for a while on the bottom step, Roman resting his head on Damien’s shoulder. “I’m glad we both like each other,” Roman said idly. “I know we completely skipped over boyfriends straight into fiancés, but regardless, liking each other is...good. Nice.”

Damien laughed and said, “Are you always this flustered around guys you like?” and Roman groaned.

“Look, not having the words to describe how I feel about love is not an uncommon thing,” Roman protested. “You’re the one who thought my smile was pretty enough to fall down the stairs for.”

Damien huffed in annoyance and Roman smirked. “You know it’s true,” Roman gloated.

“Are you going to bring that up whenever we have a debate?” Damien asked.

“It’s entirely possible, at least until you do something stupider,” Roman said.

Damien sighed. “Well, you’re honest about it at least.”

Roman grinned before looking up at the stairs behind them. “I hate that sooner or later we’re going to have to leave,” he sighed.

“Tell me about it,” Damien sighed. “I just hope we aren’t punished by being separated again.”

“I will fight tooth and nail against that, for what it’s worth,” Roman said. “I would argue I hated that more than you did.  _ I _ had to be with my mother, after all.”

“That’s true,” Damien mused. “Maybe if they force that, I only do it under the negotiation that I stay with your mother so you can’t be in the same room as her?”

Roman snorted. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, let alone you,” he said.

“And yet you do it to yourself?” Damien asked.

Roman went quiet. “Someone has to, at the end of the day.”

“That someone doesn’t have to be you,” Damien said.

“Well, I’m not going to wish it on anyone else in this castle, so I’m the only one left,” Roman said with a shrug. “This afternoon, and then tomorrow. The day after that is the rehearsal for the wedding, and before you know it, this will all be over.”

“I don’t want you being punished for the next three days, my dear,” Damien said.

Roman shrugged. “Punished for the next three days is better than punished for the rest of my life.”

“That’s what this was  _ intended to be, _ my dear,” Damien said. “And that’s not fair to you. I want to lessen the suffering and punishment as much as possible.”

“I would argue you already have,” Roman said, stroking Damien’s cheek.

Damien turned pink and Roman bit his lip, wondering if it was too soon to try for a kiss. Roman leaned forward but Damien pulled back, and Roman stopped. Too soon, then.

“We should probably move away from the steps,” Damien said, standing up. “If we leave through the door behind us we’ll almost certainly be caught in an instant, but I know some ways to sneak around this castle and not get lectured quite yet.”

“Could we retreat to my room?” Roman asked. “Spend some time away from everyone before the inevitable lecture?”

“Of course, my love,” Damien said, holding out his hand, and Roman took it.

Damien helped Roman to his feet and they walked further into the basement. It wasn’t the most well-lit, but it wasn’t completely dark and dreary. “Is this storage space?” Roman asked.

“Mostly,” Damien agreed. “But the perk of that is that there are multiple ways to get to the storage from around the castle, depending on what you need.”

Roman nodded.

Damien led him up a flight of stairs to a nondescript door and held a finger to his lips. He pressed his ear to the wood, and, apparently satisfied with what he heard, opened the door and ushered Roman up and out of the basement. Roman recognized the mudroom he had ran through his first day here right down the hall, and Damien led him up the back stairs and both of them rushed to Roman’s room, Roman closing the door with a click and sighing. “My mother is going to be furious,” he lamented.

“You retreated to your room to regroup and think things over,” Damien said. “No one would blame you for that.”

“You are far too good at coming up with excuses,” Roman laughed, walking over to his bed. Damien sat down next to him and Roman sighed. “I admittedly don’t know how we’re going to pass the time without causing a ruckus and being found out.”

Damien glanced around. “I mean, you packed art supplies...and...at least one book,” he said, pointing to the nightstand. “I could read and you could draw, if all else fails.”

“True,” Roman sighed. He looked at the flower crown Damien was still wearing, and smiled. “I’m glad you like my little gift to you.”

“Of course,” Damien said, sounding almost offended. “It was a gift from you. Why wouldn’t I like it?”

Roman squeaked and turned cherry red. “Rude!” he sputtered.

Damien chuckled, arching an eyebrow. “I fail to see how that’s rude, but if I must repay you for that somehow, I suppose I will.”

Roman was struck with an idea and he grabbed his sketchbook and pencils. “Sit still, then, I want to draw you with your flower crown,” he said, flipping to a blank page in his sketchbook and beginning to get the basic shapes on paper.

Damien laughed, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, woe is me! I have to sit still for five minutes while you sketch, I never should have agreed to this!”

Roman snickered and shook his head. “Well, that’s what you get for being rude!” he shot back.

“That wasn’t rude!” Damien laughed. “Rude would be doing a dramatic rendition of ‘Say Something’ using  _ your _ hairbrush as the microphone just after you’ve gotten out of the shower.”

Roman laughed harder. “You’re so weird!” Roman declared, pointing his pencil at Damien. “That’s  _ such _ an oddly specific example. Who did you do that to?”

Damien turned light pink and looked away. “No one in particular,” he said.

Roman squinted at Damien. He would have just admitted if it had been a boyfriend, and he had thick hair, but his father always kept his hair neat and it wasn’t nearly as curly as Damien’s, so he doubted it was his father. Roman’s eyes lit up and he giggled. “You did that to your mom, didn’t you?!”

“Shut up!” Damien hissed. “How was I to know she was in the shower in the hotel?”

“Uh, if you were sharing a hotel room, you  _ definitely _ should have heard the water running,” Roman laughed. “And ‘Say Something’? Really? You would sing  _ ‘Say Something’? _ That’s such a specific song!”

Damien huffed. “I was in my angst phase, all right?!” he defended. “And my mother ripped her hairbrush out of my hands, so her hair didn’t dry tangled!”

“That doesn’t make it better!” Roman crowed. “Oh, if you do that on our honeymoon, I will  _ personally _ kill you. My hair is a mess enough without it getting all tangled after a shower.”

“Speaking of honeymoons...anywhere you want to go?” Damien asked. “I’m personally fond of the Meditteranian.”

“I kind of want to see Rome, and Italy in general for that matter,” Roman said with a shrug. “But the Carribean would also be nice. White beaches, blue skies, nothing but the open ocean for miles on a rental boat?”

“Hm, true,” Damien said. “The Carribean is lovely. How about this: we honeymoon in Italy, and for Valentine’s, I take you to the Carribean? Get away from the freezing winter.”

“You would do that?” Roman asked, eyes lighting up. “You’d take a vacation for a couple days just to go to the beach with me?”

“I’d make it two weeks if at all possible,” Damien said. “Just enough time for sun, sand, water, and maybe some fun inside, too, if you catch my drift.”

Roman gripped his pencil so hard he was surprised it didn’t snap in two. “Damien!” he exclaimed indignantly as Damien started snickering. “That is  _ impossibly _ rude! Don’t get me thinking about those sorts of things when I’m trying to draw! It  _ never _ ends well!”

“How does it end?” Damien asked.

“Usually with certain images drawn that should never see the light of day,” Roman said seriously, focusing on Damien’s nose in the drawing rather than looking up at Damien himself.

“I’d love to see those,” Damien said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Maybe once we’re married,” Roman muttered. “But not before.”

“Oh, you wound me!” Damien exclaimed.

“The marriage is in three days, you doofus, you’ll live,” Roman said definitively.

Damien sighed. “...You know your mother is probably going to kill us both when she finds us.”

“Yep, trying not to think about that, thanks,” Roman said, continuing to draw.

“Do you have any plans for trying to get out of it?” Damien asked.

“Nope. I just figure she’ll yell at me for a while and then be done with it. She can’t call off the wedding at this point.”

“Why not?” Damien asked. “You said yourself that she arranged it, and you said it in front of half a dozen dignitaries. The secret’s out, my dear. They know it’s not a marriage of love, but of convenience.”

Roman sighed. “I choose to believe that she wouldn’t stoop so low as to cancel the marriage. She’s too desperate to have her perfect daughter.”

Damien frowned. “You know, I think it’s rather sad,” he mused. “She’s so desperate to cling to someone you never were that she’ll shove who you really are away. I know parents dream of their perfect children, who could never do a thing wrong in their life, and who are everything they want those kids to be and more, but...in the process of trying to preserve her daughter, she’s chasing away her son. I know that what she’s doing is inexcusable, and I know it hurts you, and of course, I’m not trying to defend her, but...that desperation...that sheer fear of the unknown that turns into bigotry and ignorance...it’s saddening to see.”

“Because she could be good, if only she opened her eyes and saw the error of her ways,” Roman agreed softly. “If she didn’t try to micromanage myself and Remus, and let us do what we wanted, be ourselves, explore who that really is without fear of judgement, she probably could have loved who we really are. Everyone who I talk to when I’m myself...when I’m not pretending to be Veronica? They say that I’m the happiest man they’ve ever seen. They say I’m full of life, that I’m energetic, that I light up a room when I enter it.

“That’s how I was when I was a kid, too. That’s what my mother is trying to cling to. But what she doesn’t realize is that when she saw a little girl, the reality was that I was being a little boy. I was being myself. And yeah, some more ‘feminine’ interests like art have stayed through the years, but...at the end of the day...I’m a man. I was being a little boy, getting dirty and scuffing my shoes and wearing my hair short and insisting on wearing pants and suits like Remus did. That wasn’t a little girl going through a rebellious phase, that was a little boy trying to get the world to agree that’s who he was.”

Damien nodded solemnly. “I don’t suppose explaining that to her would go over well?”

“I’ve tried. More than once. She never wants to hear it. She’s too wrapped up in her ideal little world to accept that life doesn’t always turn out the way she wants it to,” Roman said. “It’s beyond infuriating, but right now, I’m resigned to my fate. Three more days of pretending. And then hormones, surgery, therapy, the works.”

Damien’s lips twitched up. “If you keep focusing on the light at the end of the tunnel, you’ll be there before you know it.”

“I hope so,” Roman sighed.

“I know so,” Damien assured him. “Pretty soon no one in the world will be able to deny that you are a man. Not even your parents.”

“They’ll argue it anyway, because of what’s in my pants,” Roman sighed, making marks on the shading of his drawing.

“If we keep you hidden away for a couple months until the HRT kicks in, they won’t recognize you at first,” Damien suggested.

“As soon as we say my name they will,” Roman said, rolling his eyes.

“My love, by that point I will most likely have swords at your parents’ throats and if they misgender you they will lose their heads. Literally. I will not hesitate,” Damien said determinedly. “No one will be allowed to misgender you again.”

Roman felt his cheeks heat up and he couldn’t help but look away, finding Damien’s gaze to be far too intense. “I appreciate it,” Roman said. “Truly. I just wish that it weren’t a problem in the first place.”

“I know,” Damien tutted. His eyes drifted away from Roman and to the page Roman was signing. “Oh, wow,” he breathed. “My love, that is beautiful.”

Roman giggled a little. “It’s not my best work,” he admitted with some reluctance. “I am proud of it for the time I took, but it’s not the best. I will admit the flowers came out better than expected.”

“I can’t wait to see you draw more, so I can see the work you’re actually proud of,” Damien said. “Because this is incredible. The pieces you put time into must be heart-stopping.”

“Stop!” Roman whined. “Oh my god, you’re going to kill me at this rate! Don’t!”

Damien gently closed the sketchbook and put it on the nightstand, and removed Roman’s hands from his face so he couldn’t hide behind them. “My love, you can create the second most beautiful masterpieces in the world.”

“What’s the first?” Roman asked.

Damien smirked. “I think you know.”

“If you say me, I will kick you, and it will  _ hurt,” _ Roman warned.

“If I said anything else I would be—oof!” Damien was cut off by Roman roughly kicking Damien in the jewels. “...Lying...ow...”

“Serves you right,” Roman huffed. “You’ve been nothing but rude to me all day with your compliments.”

Damien winced and tried to uncurl from his fetal position. “I had been informed that most boys generally  _ liked _ being flirted with...”

“I’m not most boys,” Roman said simply.

“...You’re right. I should have taken that into account.” Damien took a deep breath through his nose and let out a sigh. “Okay. I’m not going to puke from that one kick, that’s progress.”

Roman offered Damien a smirk. “You’ve puked from that type of thing before?”

“Yes, although I was fairly young,” Damien admitted. “I told a girl I liked her brother and she screamed and kicked me, essentially gave me the shovel talk, and stormed off. Apparently Nate already liked a girl. And my giving him my bubblegum lollipop meant nothing.”

Roman laughed. “Oh, that’s priceless!”

Damien pouted. “Come on, giving up my bubblegum lollipop was a big deal! And he just took it and didn’t even say thank you!”

“Still hilarious,” Roman said, grinning.

Damien huffed. “I see how it is,” he grumbled.

“No, baby, come on, I love you,” Roman said, hugging him. “I just also love laughing at you.”

Damien continued to pout and grumble for a couple minutes, but Roman hugging him meant that the mood in the room wasn’t  _ too _ dark.

Damien grimaced as his stomach growled. “It’s about lunch time,” he said. “But I anticipate we wouldn’t be allowed to sneak into the kitchen to avoid the dignitaries.”

Roman took off his and Damien’s flower crowns and placed them gently on the nightstand. “I’m willing to wait for an hour or so to try and sneak down.”

“That’s probably our best bet,” Damien agreed. “Until then...” he grabbed Roman’s hairbrush and said, “Care to duet?”

Roman laughed. “Sure, what song?”

“‘Say Something’?” Damien offered with a grin.

“Uh, maybe not,” Roman laughed. “What about ‘all the good girls go to hell’?”

Damien’s eyes lit up, “I love that song!” he declared, pulling out his phone and typing furiously. After a second, the song started to play, and Damien started singing into Roman’s hairbrush. “‘My Lucifer is lonely...’”

Roman belted out the lyrics along with Damien, and at some point during the song they wound up standing on the bed, dramatically posing to each line. By the end of the song, they were breathless and laughing, and Roman was beaming as Damien bit back a grin. “That was fun!” Roman exclaimed. “Another song?”

“Sure,” Damien agreed.

Roman scrolled through his phone, looking at what he had recently played, and he laughed. “Hey, want something ironic?” he asked.

“Always,” Damien said.

Roman played Lorde’s “Royals” and Damien burst out laughing as the beat started. They sang just as dramatically as before, Roman bouncing on his toes on the bed while Damien struggled to simply remain standing. Roman giggled as the song came to a close. “That was fun,” he said.

A knock sounded on the door and both his and Damien’s heads snapped to it as it swung open. Virgil walked in, looking furious. “There you are! Your Highnesses, the whole castle has been looking for you for  _ two hours!” _

Damien shrugged. “Roman was upset after confronting his mother. We came back here to talk and after a time we decided to have some fun just singing. Did you not think to look here until now?”

Virgil seethed. “I knew you two were still on the grounds, but that didn’t mean you two weren’t out of danger! Do you have any idea how much of a state your parents are in, Damien?!”

Damien slumped and shrugged. “Honestly, they should know that I do this sometimes, they should expect it, really.”

“Well, whether they did or didn’t this is the longest we’ve gone without finding you, and the two of you have to answer to them,” Virgil said sternly. “Out. Now.”


	27. Chapter 27

Roman reluctantly climbed off the bed with Damien and left the bedroom. To his mild surprise, both his mother and Damien’s parents were waiting right around the corner. His mind froze. He had hoped he would have more time to think this through. But no, he had to answer now, apparently, and he had no words to explain his actions.

He was.  _ So _ screwed.

Damien intertwined his hand with Roman’s and Roman took a breath. He wasn’t going to speak until spoken to, if only to buy him a few more seconds to think.

His mother barely gave him half of a single second. “Have you nothing to say for yourself, Veronica?” she seethed.

Roman just stared at his mother blankly and shrugged. “Nope,” he said.

“Stop being cute, Veronica, it’s not a good look on you,” his mother hissed. “I demand an explanation!”

“I told you I’m not speaking to you until you apologize to Damien. That is all I will say until you apologize,” Roman insisted.

“I will not apologize for saying the truth!” his mother growled.

“And yet you want Roman to apologize for being himself?” Damien mumbled next to Roman, and Roman snorted.

“Damien, don’t be ridiculous. To say there was never any sort of double-standard in my family would be a blatant lie,” Roman responded, smirking at Damien as his mother grew red.

“Veronica, pack your things,” his mother growled. “We’re leaving.”

“You wait just a minute, Diana,” the Queen said, ice in her voice. “You were so desperate to marry your child off that you threatened war. You’ve been nothing but antagonistic towards both your own child and ours. I will not allow you to simply return to your country to lick your wounds because you don’t like that  _ our son _ refuses to be pushed around like you’re used to. You put everyone here through  _ hell _ to accommodate your wishes. If you choose to force your way back home, then my husband and I will go public with what you threatened us with in order to agree to this. You think you have a PR nightmare at home now? That will be  _ nothing _ compared to what you have on your hands after today. This wedding will occur, whether you like it or not, unless you’d rather your country hold an uprising knowing everything that you and your husband threatened us with?”

Roman’s jaw dropped open as his mother sputtered and tried to come up with an explanation. None came out of her mouth.

The Queen turned to Roman. “My dear, would you rather be known as Roman or Veronica?”

Roman’s heart leapt into his throat. “Sorry?” he asked.

“Your mother has been forcing you to be someone you’re not for too long. If you wish to go by Roman, we will respect that.”

Damien squeezed Roman’s hand next to him and Roman took a shuddery breath, tears coming to his eyes. “I...” he knew what he had to do if he wanted his mother even remotely cooperative. But the King and the Queen were giving him an out, a guaranteed wedding. He never thought he might want that, and yet, here he was. “I...don’t know.”

The Queen tilted her head to the side. “You don’t have to be anyone you’re not, sweetheart, it’s fine.”

“I...I know. I know that.” Roman took a breath. “It’s just...when I wanted to go by Roman. It was an experiment. It was all an experiment, to see how I would feel as the opposite gender. I had felt like a boy for years, true, but...but I still didn’t know if presenting as male would ring more true than presenting as female. I pushed back against my mother, because I wanted the freedom to experiment. But...I still...don’t know.”

The tears slipping down Roman’s cheeks as he spoke those words were real. It broke his heart that he had to play the part of the confused child when his opportunity to be himself was right there. But if he wanted Remus at the wedding, if he wanted continued contact with his friends, if he wanted to see anyone at home again, he had to play into this, just a while longer. “I thought...I thought I knew,” Roman said. “I thought I was sure when I pushed back. I wanted the freedom to experiment, and I wanted that freedom to be myself, whoever that was. But as this week continues...I don’t know. I don’t know who I am.”

The Queen looked him over. Damien was giving him glances. His mother was still red in the face. “Part of me...part of me wants to be Roman,” he said. “But there’s another part of me that I find difficult to explain. And I want to figure out what that part is as well. I want to know  _ all _ of me, as best I can, before I make this decision.”

“Of course,” the Queen said, relaxing a fraction. “Still, we must call you something.”

Roman nodded. “You can call me Roman,” he said. “I still want to experiment. To see if it sits right. Give me twenty-four hours as Roman, and I’ll have a decision for you tomorrow afternoon. I just...I just need time.”

“We can do that,” the Queen said with a smile. “Now. As for you two running off...”

Roman and Damien got double-teamed by the King and Queen, talking about how they were scared to death and if they needed time alone, all they had to do in the future was to ask for it, but to never run off like that again. Roman nodded to all of it, and Damien just stood there, agreeing softly at the end. Roman’s mother said nothing the entire time, simply glaring at Roman, and Roman pretended that she wasn’t even there.

When they were ordered to go downstairs and grab something to eat before meeting with the dignitaries, Damien sighed once they were out of their parents’ earshot. “You put on a very convincing act, Roman, I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” Roman said. “Your parents know it’s an act, I assume?”

“My mother caught on, for certain,” Damien said. “And she can clue my father in.”

Roman nodded. “My mother will expect me to go by my deadname around the dignitaries.”

Damien grimaced. “I don’t suppose that simply not correcting them if they call you either name is acceptable?”

“Not to her. But maybe we could play it off for the sake of the ‘experiment,’” Roman mused.

“And I assume at the end of the ‘experiment’ you’ll allow your mother to deadname you?” Damien asked.

“Lull her into a false sense of security, and then when the wedding comes, be my true self. It’ll keep her quiet until the wedding itself, at the very least,” Roman said. “And it will guarantee that Remus is there.”

Damien nodded. “I don’t like it, but I understand,” he sighed.

Roman laughed a little. “You’re so protective,” he said. “I think it’s a little funny, especially when I’ve been able to handle myself this long.”

“My mother  _ just _ stepped in to save both of our hides,” Damien pointed out.

“Would she have done that if I hadn’t won her over with my charming smile and good looks?” Roman teased.

“Yes,” Damien said.

“Oh.” Roman considered this new information. “Well, whatever. Minimal interference does not refute the fact I can handle myself.”

“You keep telling yourself that, my love,” Damien laughed.

Roman stuck his tongue out at Damien and Damien did it back with a laugh. They walked into the kitchen and Patton just about  _ shrieked _ in surprise. “Boys! Where have you been?!”

“Roman’s room,” Damien replied. “Their Majesties already tore into us, no need to call them.”

Patton gave Damien a side-eye. “You remember the first time you lied to me Damien?” he asked.

“We were six, and I said I had worn heelies before and so you didn’t have to worry when we raced around the castle,” Damien said.

“You nearly cracked your skull open when you fell down the stairs and I sobbed so hard I nearly puked because I thought you were dead. And since then I’ve never been able to completely trust you about anything except your inability to cook,” Patton said. “Did you two really get chewed out?”

“Yes, we did,” Roman sighed. “And I got permission to go by Roman for twenty-four hours because my mom was being a witch-with-a-b. But heelies? Do tell.”

“Nothing much else to tell about it,” Patton laughed. “My mom was the head cook before me and I had off school. That happened. You get to go by your name for twenty four hours?”

“As part of an experiment,” Roman agreed. “It’s going to be interesting trying to convince everyone that I didn’t like it enough to continue afterwards, but I get gender euphoria for twenty-four hours.”

“Hey, congrats!” Patton exclaimed, grinning. “That has to be a fantastic feeling.”

“It does feel pretty nice,” Roman said with a shy grin.

“So,  _ Roman,” _ Patton said with a pointed grin, “Anything I can get you and Damien?”

“Anything that’s filling is fine by me,” Roman said with a shrug. “Damien?”

“I’m not picky, I’m just hungry,” Damien said simply.

“Something fast and filling, got it,” Patton laughed.

A dignitary Roman didn’t recognize walked into the room and snorted. “I knew I’d find you here eventually, Damien!” he said. “How are you, dear?”

“I’m fine, Max,” Damien responded. “Have you met my fiancé, Roman?”

“Never had the pleasure,” Max said, walking over and shaking Roman’s hand.

Roman smiled at Max and said, “I assume you have, however, seen my mother?”

“Yes, she was fuming after what she referred to as your ‘little stunt’ and I must say, anyone who can irritate someone that uptight is a friend in my book.”

Roman laughed. “Uptight is certainly a...kind word for her. I prefer ‘control freak,’ among others.”

“Transphobic, cruel, stubborn, and abusive are what I favor for her,” Damien said simply.

“Jesus, don’t do anything by halves, do you?” Roman asked.

“Not when it comes to this particular topic, I’m afraid,” Damien said with a small and pained smile.

Roman scratched the back of his neck. “Just don’t let her hear you say that and you should be fine. She pokes fights with everyone, anyone who knows her won’t be surprised if she snarls at you.”

Damien made a discontented noise. “I now understand why the diplomats from your country are recorded as some of the kindest and most patient in all the world. And I have to say, that if this is what they have to put up with daily, it’s a surprise any of them make it through the training process.”

Roman laughed and Max winced in sympathy. “Yeah, Her Majesty can certainly be a piece of work,” Max mumbled. “Don’t tell her I said that, of course.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Roman assured. “Especially when I know exactly what you have to go through around her when she likes you on a  _ good _ day.”

Patton came over with food for Roman and Damien and both of them made quick work of it, chatting with Max in between bites. When they had both finished lunch, they shared a look. “I’m not ready to go out to all the other dignitaries,” Roman groaned. “I’m tired, and I want a break from the wedding and the performance around it.”

“I know, my love,” Damien said, kissing Roman’s knuckles. “But I won’t make you go through this alone, if it’s any consolation.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s nice, but the fact remains that this will be a highly draining act, explaining everything that is going on.”

“I can help explain a few things, if you’d like?” Max offered. “Go to the little groups around the room and chat with them before they get to you?”

“You’d do that?” Roman asked, relief evident in his voice.

“Of course,” Max said. “I probably can’t get  _ every _ group, but I know enough people to know who to talk to about it, and the rest of the room will hear the gossip soon enough.”

“Nice,” Roman said. “I’d appreciate that.”

Max offered Roman a smile. “Shall we get to the ballroom, then? Everyone is waiting for the both of you.”

“Let’s get it over with,” Damien said, linking his hand in Roman’s.

Roman walked side-by-side with Damien as they entered the room, and Roman shuffled a little closer as nearly everyone turned to look at them. “I found Their Highnesses in the kitchen!” Max exclaimed with a little laugh. “Try not to flood them!”

Roman put on his best polite smile and Damien stood next to him, looking relaxed but somewhat resigned. Immediately, the closest group to the door came over and dragged them into a conversation about the wedding. What they planned to wear, and oh, wasn’t it  _ exciting, _ and what was their first dance going to be? Roman responded with answers that ranged from, “Yes, I suppose it’s rather exciting,” to “I want to leave the details of the wedding to be a surprise.” Damien was similar, trying to deflect any questions specifically about Roman’s dress, and anything that spoke about “the bride.”

Dysphoria stabbed Roman in the chest every time someone said that, but still he smiled and responded politely. They didn’t get a word in edgewise with the first group, and couldn’t explain that Roman was going by Roman for the day. The second group, though, Max had spoken to, and it was a breath of fresh air when someone asked, “So, how are the grooms-to-be faring?”

Roman laughed, beaming and honestly answering, “We’ve been all right,” as Damien smiled at the dignitary who had asked the question.

The conversations were about things that Roman didn’t find important, for the most part, but he was able to answer them honestly and openly, seeing as how his mother currently was not in the room. Damien, again, deflected prying questions about Roman’s gender and anything related to the reveal at the wedding. Roman squeezed Damien’s hand as they were let go to another group. “What was that for?” Damien asked.

“For being willing to help dodge questions about the wedding day,” Roman said with a small smile. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, my love, it wouldn’t do for the surprise to be spoiled,” Damien responded.

“A surprise?” a dignitary asked. “What sort of surprise?”

“A secret surprise,” Damien replied simply. “And no, you will not get either of us revealing anything more about it.”

Conversation became a bit more prying after that, but Roman and Damien didn’t give anything up. They talked, they laughed, and never once did they let go of each other’s hands. Their parents walked into the room at some point, which Damien pointed out by mumbling, “The Dragon Witch has entered.”

Roman took an inconspicuous look around the room and spotted her and Damien’s parents talking with a few other people. “Great,” Roman sighed.

“Don’t worry, we can get through this,” Damien said, voice holding a lot more confidence than Roman felt.

The afternoon went on slowly, everyone’s shadows slowly creeping longer and longer, until the sun was definitely setting. Roman and Damien went through the last group of dignitaries and both of them sat down in a corner of the room with a sigh. “This is so hard,” Roman sighed. “I know my mother caught me smiling a couple times when people called me Roman. How do I know if she’s going to buy my story tomorrow, asking to go back to Veronica?”

“She’s desperate enough to not question it too much, I think,” Damien murmured back. “I mean, she shouldn’t be, but she is. I can’t wait for that world to crash around her, and real life to kick her in the face.”

“That would be great,” Roman snorted. “I doubt it would happen, but it’s nice to dream...”

“It will happen, if for no other reason than because I will ensure it happens,” Damien said. “I’ve put up with too much from her to not gloat.”

“Fair enough,” Roman laughed, resting his head on Damien’s shoulder.

Damien kissed Roman’s head and murmured, “Do you think we can be affectionate around your mother while you’re performing this little ‘experiment’?”

“I don’t know,” Roman admitted. “She’s quite obviously homophobic. I think if we’re affectionate she’ll try to brush it off. She’s realizing that scolding me doesn’t have much of an effect on my behavior here, and she can’t take away my phone; I won’t let her do that again. So we can do as we please within reason. Eventually, she’ll find a threshold where being at risk of a PR disaster is worth it if I’m in her grasp again, so we’d have to tread lightly on the bigger stuff, but I think just being close, like this, sitting together, isn’t as big of a deal.”

“So what I’m hearing is that I won’t get to kiss you for the next twenty four hours,” Damien sighed.

“Sadly,” Roman agreed. “If we did that, she would instantly freak out and drag me home by my ear.”

Damien winced. “She’s a horrible woman.”

“She is,” Roman agreed softly. “Don’t tell her that I said that.”

“Of course not,” Damien said. “Everyone knows that men are the only ones who are allowed opinions anyway.”

“Hey!” Roman exclaimed, a fraction of a decibel too loud, as some people looked over at them. “I’ll have you know that I am a man. A manly man. A man who is manly!”

“Of course you are,” Damien said. “I was trying to play off a joke from your mother’s flawed logic. Was it not funny?”

“Strikes a little too close to home,” Roman said, lips pressed into a thin line.

“My apologies, in that case,” Damien said.

They turned to look at the crowd in the ballroom and lapsed into silence. “Dinner is going to be a trial,” Damien sighed. “Not everyone here will be staying for dinner, but enough people will be that we cannot escape the horrors that are small talk and wedding planning.”

Roman laughed. “I’m not looking forward to it either,” he admitted. “At least your descriptions of everything are funny, though.”

“Well, good, I’m glad,” Damien said, puffing out his chest a little and preening under the praise.

“And I think dinner will be at least somewhat bearable,” Roman said.

“Oh? And why would that be?” Damien asked.

Roman squeezed their intertwined hands and smiled. “Because we’ll be going through it together.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being patient waiting for the next chapter! I've had to abandon the update schedule as my mental health took a dive, but I have another chapter for you all as a thanks for waiting!

As it turned out, they didn’t have to wait long for dinner to be ready. One of the workers came into the ballroom shortly after Roman and Damien’s conversation and everyone either made their excuses to leave or headed towards the dining room. Damien stood and offered his hand to Roman, but Roman hesitated. “I still don’t feel ready,” he said. “I know it’ll be okay, and you’ll help me, but I still don’t feel...ready.”

Damien just held his hand a little higher. “The sooner we get it over with the sooner we can leave,” he offered. “And we can spend the evening just the two of us, at least until we’re hounded into dancing practice.”

Roman groaned softly, but he couldn’t deny his smile at the thought of getting to dance more with Damien, so he took the hand and let himself be dragged to his feet. Damien ran his nose down Roman’s neck and Roman squeaked, shoving Damien’s head away. “What if my mother sees?!” he hissed in a panic.

“I don’t see her in the room,” Damien said, glancing meaningfully at the door.

“That doesn’t mean she won’t come back if we drag our feet!” Roman said in a hushed shout. “I can’t have her seeing us be intimate while I’m pretending to experiment!”

Damien hummed. “What if she did see us?” he asked.

“She can’t!”

“But you could use your supposed heterosexuality to your advantage,” Damien said. “You like it when we flirt. You enjoy my intimacy. And she believes that only girls can like boys. Let us imply that I turned you straight and her plan worked. I can be loving to you, you still get to wear a suit at the wedding, and you don’t have to worry about your brother not coming to the big day.”

“Damien, pretending to be cisgender is going to be hard enough,” Roman laughed. “Cisgender  _ and _ heterosexual? That’s overselling it.”

“You’ve had an interest in boys in the past, yes?” Damien asked as they started to walk.

“...Yes?” Roman said, unsure of where this was going.

“And you have an interest in me,” Damien said.

“Yes,” Roman agreed.

“Then there’s no pretending to be heterosexual. You let your actual feelings speak for you. You pretend to be cisgender, when we both know the truth, and our attraction is real. Your mother is desperate enough to not examine it too closely.”

“I hope so,” Roman muttered.

“I know so,” Damien assured him. “I have talked to many a desperate diplomat before, I know how to recognize it. And your mother is grasping at straws.”

Roman sighed, and offered Damien a weak smile. “You’re sure you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“Positive,” Damien agreed. “She’s desperate. That makes her easier to manipulate.”

“Also much more dangerous, and volatile if she suspects that’s what we’re doing,” Roman pointed out nervously.

“We’ll be fine, my love, I promise,” Damien said. “I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

Roman nodded, and forced himself to relax as much as he could. He had reason to be worried, true, but he also had reason to trust Damien and his family. And he’d be safe here. What would be unsafe...would be going home. But Roman didn’t intend to do that for a long, long time.

At least, not until Remus became the King.

They got to the dining room and Damien and Roman sat next to each other, as per usual. Roman nodded at anyone who greeted him again, smiling neutrally. Honestly, he just wanted to find a place with just Damien to hide out a little while longer, to kick back and talk and be silly in private. He doubted he’d be allowed that sort of needed space right now, though.

Damien glanced at him. “Tired?” he asked.

“Something like that,” Roman agreed.

“After dinner, might I be able to drag you around the castle for a bit?” Damien asked.

“Sure,” Roman said. “Any particular place in mind?”

Damien shrugged, grinning a little. “Well, there’s one room that we’ve used to store a piano for years now. It’s still in tune...”

“And you know how to play?” Roman asked, eyes lighting up.

“Well enough,” Damien agreed. “I’d like to show you, if that’s all right.”

“I’d  _ love _ that!” Roman exclaimed.

Damien put a finger to his lips. “Careful, if too many people hear, they might insist on a concert.”

Roman laughed, but did quiet down. His smile came a lot more naturally now, and he appreciated that.

Dinner came out, Patton sending a little wave to Roman. Roman waved back. “Looks like you have some competition, Damien,” one of the diplomats teased.

Damien scoffed. “Right. Because I’m threatened by Patton of all people.”

“I’m just like an over-friendly labrador, I’ll wave at anyone,” Roman laughed. “It doesn’t mean much to me. I’m still happy getting to be married to Damien, rest assured.”

Damien kissed Roman’s cheek and Roman squeaked, lightly smacking his arm. “Behave!” he squawked.

Everyone else laughed and Roman just rolled his eyes, turning to his food. Damien ran his hand down Roman’s arm. “Come on, my love, I was only teasing,” Damien said.

Roman stuck his tongue out at Damien and Damien over-dramatically gasped. “Come on!” he protested.

Snickering, Roman shook his head. “You have to earn it, loverboy.”

Damien made an offended noise. “You just said you’d love to marry me!”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t have to earn a kiss!” Roman teased.

A quick glance around the table showed that everyone was watching them with amusement, save for his mother, who looked supremely uncomfortable. Roman turned back to his food again and the conversation stalled, before Damien asked, “Who had placed their bets on me marrying Roman?” with a cheeky grin.

Roman nearly choked on his food. “What?!”

“Supposedly almost everyone had a betting pool debating who I would find myself in love with,” Damien said, eyes sparkling with amusement. “It was a bit of an open secret. Most people had bets on  _ someone. _ Although I’m not sure you were on the list.”

“I can understand why I wouldn’t be,” Roman said.

“Indeed,” Damien agreed. “But the fact remains that we  _ are _ getting married, and if enough people were in on it  _ someone _ might have betted on you.”

“I don’t think anyone did,” Max said from his position at the table. “And I was the one keeping track of all the bets.”

“Really?” Damien asked, surprised. “No one?”

“No one,” Max confirmed. “I do distinctly remember that someone betted a long shot with Roman’s brother.”

Roman burst out laughing. “Oh, no. Remus?! Who bet on Remus?!”

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Remus in years,” Damien mused. “I suppose when I was a child, perhaps, but not for a while.”

“That’s going to change, soon,” Roman pointed out.

His mother muttered something dark under her breath and everyone turned to her. “Something on your mind, Diana?” the Queen asked.

“Remus hasn’t been feeling well as of late. It would be a shame for him to miss the wedding, but if he is sick enough, I don’t want to risk anyone here growing ill,” his mother said.

Roman’s stomach dropped. His mother was setting up the framework for Remus to miss the wedding. He had sincerely hoped that she wouldn’t stoop so low as to do that. But if anything cemented in the concept that he would have to pretend to be Veronica after tomorrow afternoon, it was this. “He seemed fine when we left,” Roman weakly tried.

“How would you know?” his mother asked. “You didn’t even say goodbye to him when we left!”

“We left before  _ dawn! _ I wasn’t going to wake him up before dawn just to say goodbye, even if you  _ had _ given me the chance!” Roman protested. “The last time I saw him, he seemed perfectly healthy.”

The room went uncomfortably quiet. Roman’s mother was glaring at him, but Roman refused to back down. If there was a chance he could have Remus at the wedding without having to pretend to be a confused little girl for the rest of the week, he’d snatch it up immediately.

“You can’t even acknowledge that you are a woman, dear, how would you know  _ anything _ about others if you can’t know yourself?” his mother scoffed.

Roman’s entire face burned and his eyes stung in an instant, and he stood up so fast his chair screeched behind him before falling to the floor. “How  _ dare _ you?!” he snarled. “How  _ dare _ you suggest that just because I want to experiment with my identity that I’m incompetent?! You clearly know  _ nothing, _ not only about Remus, but about  _ me! _ I would question  _ your _ judgement on seeing how Remus is feeling! So many times both of us pretended to be fine, plastered on fake smiles and insisted we weren’t in trouble, and you were none the wiser! You forced us into situations that made us feel  _ worse _ and at the end of it insisted that it couldn’t be that bad, because we were  _ fine, _ after which point Remus would run to the bathroom and puke or I’d retreat to my bedroom to have a panic attack! You. Know.  _ Nothing. _ About. Us. And I would thank you  _ kindly _ to  _ never _ assume that you know us better than we know ourselves ever. Again.”

“That sort of behavior is frankly disgusting, Your Majesty,” Damien said with a glare. “You are not in Roman’s head. Nor are you in Remus’. If Remus is truly sick, then I would advise he stay home, but if you are merely fabricating this as some sort of power grab, then I have to say, I am decidedly unimpressed with you. And considering Roman’s reaction, the latter seems far more likely.”

Murmuring started up around the room and the Queen clapped her hands. “Everyone, quiet down, please. Roman, take a seat, Diana, I don’t want to hear one more word from you until I am finished speaking.”

Roman’s stomach flipped but he grabbed his chair and sat back down, observing the Queen.

“Obviously, we are dealing with some varied opinions here. I cannot say for sure who is right, because I don’t know the full story on either side. Diana, if Remus is truly sick, then I suggest he wear a mask should he come to the wedding. If you’re trying to sway Roman’s opinion by denying him his brother on his big day, then that is, like Damien said, disgusting, and I truly hope you wouldn’t stoop that low. Damien, we’ve spoken before about you antagonizing people you aren’t fond of, and why that behavior is unacceptable. Roman, you are under no obligation to do whatever your mother wants from you, but that does not mean you can start shouting in the middle of dinner. I understand you’re angry, but this situation is hard on everyone, not just you. If you need a break, ask for one. But we can’t all just shout at each other for the rest of the week.”

Roman nodded. “In that case, I’ve lost my appetite and I need a break.”

“All right, dear, I will ask around to check up on you in half an hour,” the Queen said.

Roman stood after taking one last bite of dinner and he smiled at everyone except his mother. “It was lovely seeing you all, and I hope to see you at the wedding.” Then, he turned on his heel and left, immediately turning as soon as he was out the door so no one could see him start to violently shake.

After some time, the shaking subsided and he took a breath. If he focused he could hear the dinner chatter continue, but he didn’t feel like focusing. He started to walk down the hallway before footsteps skidded to a stop behind him and a hand was placed at the small of his back to capture his attention. “I still owe you a song, my love,” Damien said. “Might I be able to persuade you to come with me?”

Roman gave an over-dramatic sigh. “Oh, I suppose,” he said, laughing.

Damien offered his hand to Roman and Roman took it. Damien guided Roman through the halls, lightly swinging their hands and Roman looked at Damien with a smile. “Thank you for defending me,” he said. “It feels like every night at dinner there’s a fight, but every time you defend me.”

“Well, every night at dinner is when we are forced to be in close quarters with your mother, so that’s hardly a surprise,” Damien laughed. “But I’m happy to defend you so long as you accept it. Especially if it’s against your mother. I hate her and I love getting to call her out on her—pardon my French—shitty behavior.”

Roman snorted. “You know, when I first met you, I hardly would have expected you to say that.”

“What, did you think that I was in on the decision to make you ‘hetero ever after’?” Damien asked.

“Somewhat,” Roman admitted with a small shrug. “Honestly I wasn’t really sure  _ what _ to think, and all I knew was that you were going to be an obstacle I had to handle. I’m...really glad that you’re on my side, though.”

“As am I, my dear,” Damien assured him. “As am I.”

Roman smiled. “It’s really crazy when you think about it,” he said softly. “Two guys forced together because one of them is trans, but they wind up falling in love and the arranged marriage suddenly becomes...appealing. Granted, I usually prefer dates  _ before _ marriage, but after works too, I suppose...”

Damien grinned, nose wrinkling again. “I will take you on the best dates,” he declared as they stopped outside a nondescript door. “And if you want, you can consider this little retreat from dinner a date as well. I don’t mind.”

Roman smiled as Damien opened the door with a flourish and the two of them walked in. There were various musical instruments around the room, most of them looking disused, but in the center of it all, was a baby grand piano that looked freshly dusted. Damien sat down in front of it and plucked a couple keys, humming. “It still works, that’s good,” he mused. He turned to Roman. “Any requests?”

“It’s cheesy,” Roman warned him.

“If you have a request and I know it, I’ll play it,” Damien promised.

“Our first dance?” Roman requested. “Do you know the chords?”

Damien hummed, placing his fingers on the keys. He plucked a few of them that didn’t sound quite right, either too high or too low, and a couple sour notes, before he frowned and tried one more time, getting the first chord of the song. His face lit up. “And from there it will be...” he muttered as his hands moved further up the piano and chose the next keys. He nodded to himself. “Okay. Yeah. I think I know how to play that.”

Roman leaned against the piano attentively as Damien played the first few chords, before he started to sing. “‘When I wake up, well I know I’m gonna be...’”

Once again, Roman was enraptured by Damien’s singing. He loved hearing the slight roughness to Damien’s voice as he sang, reaching the high notes and the low notes with ease. If Roman didn’t know any better, he would say that Damien had to be part siren. Roman would certainly follow Damien’s voice to the end of the world.

The sound of the piano stopped and Roman shook himself from his reverie. “Why did you stop?” he asked Damien.

“I finished the song, my love,” Damien said, biting back laughter.

“Oh,” Roman said, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Did you not realize?” Damien asked.

“Well, I may or may not have gotten caught up in your singing...” Roman admitted. “You have a very nice voice.”

“Thank you,” Damien laughed. “I do enjoy getting to sing, though I don’t do it as often as I used to.”

“That will change when we get married,” Roman said. “I will make you sing every night to me if I can.”

“Can  _ you _ sing?” Damien asked.

“A little bit, I suppose,” Roman said with a shrug. “I certainly belted Disney songs at the top of my lungs growing up. Well into my teen years.”

“Care for a duet?” Damien asked, playing with the keys on the piano as he started a song that Roman knew all too well. “‘I can show you the world...’”

Roman beamed as Damien continued to play the piano, singing with a wide smile on his face. Soon enough, it was Roman’s chance to jump in, and he did so with gusto, never being so glad that he was a soprano in his life. Usually it caused him dysphoria, but right now, he just got the chance to duet with Damien, and that was what he was going to focus on.

Damien played the final notes of the song, and to both of their surprise, there was clapping from the doorway. The Queen was standing there, beaming. “You two have quite the talent,” she said. “If you had met when you were younger, I have no doubt that you would have never stopped singing duets together.”

Roman coughed. “I mean, it’s just some harmless fun. I doubt I could make a career out of it...”

“Doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be the life of a karaoke party,” Damien pointed out. “Come to think of it, there is a place a couple towns over that I know has a pretty good karaoke night...”

Roman laughed. “No, I would  _ not _ stand up in a crowd of strangers just to sing...not unless you would do it with me.”

Damien rolled his eyes and sighed a very put-upon sigh. “All right,” he said. “We’ll duet.”

Roman smiled. “Was there something you needed us for?” Roman asked the Queen.

“Logan’s asking after the two of you,” the Queen said. “He wants more dance practice.”

“I’m going to lose my feet at this rate!” Roman scoffed, tilting his head back.

Damien placed his arm around Roman’s shoulders and said, “It’s okay love. It’ll be fun. We can mess around a little bit if you want.”

“Logan would kill you for that, dearheart,” the Queen warned.

Damien shrugged. “The price I pay for a happy husband.”

Roman jumped. “Hey! We haven’t tied the knot yet!”

“Are you arguing that you wouldn’t want me calling you your husband?” Damien asked, arching an eyebrow.

“No. I’m saying if you say that in front of my mother, she’ll take your head,” Roman warned.

Damien shrugged. “I’ll make it work.”

“For your sake, I hope so,” Roman muttered.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warnings for MILD physical assault in this chapter!**
> 
> Wow. So much has happened in my life since I last uploaded a chapter, I don't know where to begin...thank you all for waiting for this next chapter. It's a little off-the-walls and I didn't expect it to happen this way, but considering what happened in my life recently I honestly just couldn't continue the way I was currently going with the story without hurting both the characters and myself. Thank you for being so patient waiting!

They made their way to the ballroom quickly and Logan was waiting there, hands clasped in front of him as he stared expectantly at the entrance. “There you two are,” Logan said. “I certainly hope that the two of you are ready to dance, because I think it’s high time we move on from the waltz to some more casual moves for after your first dance.”

“Oh, joy,” Roman said sarcastically. “You want to teach me  _ more _ ways to step on people’s toes?”

Logan’s lips twitched upward in the vague sense of a smile. “Come now, Roman, you’ve done well with the waltz, surely you can learn a few basic steps.”

“I know how to waltz and to Cha-Cha Slide, and that’s it,” Roman said, completely deadpan.

Damien muffled a howl of laughter next to Roman and Roman felt himself grin, just a little bit.

Logan wasn’t nearly as amused as Damien was. “Roman, you’re learning to dance, like it or not,” Logan warned.

“Oh, so you’re threatening me now? That’s what’s going on?” Roman asked. “You’re gonna threaten me until I dance with you? Then fine, pretty boy, let’s dance. Don’t expect Damien to like it.”

Logan strode forward and swept Roman away from Damien with a small smile. “He doesn’t have to like it. He just has to know I have the power to fail his classes if I so wish.”

“That’s blackmail!” Damien snapped. “Give me back my fiancé!”

Logan glanced over his shoulder at Damien and calmly said, “No.” When he turned back to Roman, he said, “Okay, so I think we should go over the specifics of swing dancing...”

Before he could say anymore, Logan was ripped away from Roman by Damien, who had his teeth bared in a growl. “No.  _ My _ fiancé. Not yours.  _ Mine.” _

Roman laughed out loud at that. “Wow, Logan, I’ve never seen someone reduce Damien to two word sentences like that!”

Logan adjusted his glasses and stared unamused at Damien. “You two still have to learn to dance, and you’ll step all over each other in more complicated steps if you do not have an expert teaching you each step separately.”

“You’re not dancing with  _ my _ fiancé,” Damien repeated, scowl firm on his face.

“And why not?” Logan asked. “I’m not trying to steal him from you, Damien.”

Roman glanced over Logan’s shoulder and saw his mother enter the room. But before he could say anything, let alone formulate a warning to the others, Damien exclaimed, “It doesn’t matter if you’re  _ trying _ to steal him, all that matters is if you  _ succeed _ or not!”

“I sincerely hope you’re not planning a kidnapping, young man,” his mother scolded Damien.

Damien turned to Roman’s mother, a retort clearly threatening to break loose, and with it, bring hell. Before Roman could think, he had his arms draped over Damien’s shoulders and was pulling him down until they were millimeters from kissing, their breath intermingling in the air. “Don’t do it,” he murmured. “She’s not worth it.”

“Someone has to,” Damien shot back. “She doesn’t run this kingdom. My family does.”

“Let that someone be me,” Roman said.

“My love, if I see her snap at you, I may just go entirely feral,” Damien warned. “Dinner after you left was not pleasant while I was there. And she’s making me inch ever closer to my wit’s end.”

Roman sighed and backed up, shoving Damien backwards and saying, “I can handle myself, you realize,” at a normal volume.

“I’m not saying you can’t,” Damien said.

“Well, you’re acting like Logan is going to secretly kidnap me from the castle and run off to marry me in your stead, and you’re acting like my mother is going to destroy me. So you not saying that I can’t handle myself isn’t getting you very far,” Roman said.

“My love...” Damien blew out a frustrated breath. “I don’t want to see you hurt, and it would kill me to see you run off with someone else.”

“I already hurt,” Roman said with a small shrug. “And why would I run off with someone else?”

“Because I’m just...me,” Damien said, sounding a little lost as to why Roman was asking. “And I can’t think of anyone who would want me as the disaster I am.”

“I can,” Roman said simply.

“Who?”

“Me,” Roman said, crossing his arms and cocking a hip. “I love you whether you’re a disaster or not. And I’m not leaving you for anyone. So you don’t have to worry about me running off.”

“I still don’t want to see you hurt,” Damien insisted.

“That doesn’t mean that you can just fight my mother whenever you feel like it,” Roman said. “That’s my job.”

His mother scoffed.

Roman turned to her. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job too, right, Mother?”

“Your ‘job’ is to respect me, young lady, and you’ve been doing  _ terrible _ work at it.”

Roman, not for the first time, but possibly for the last, felt something inside him snap. “Yeah, well, whatever.”

“Whatever?” his mother repeated dumbly.

“Yeah,” Roman said, widening his eyes and putting on an innocent expression. “What, I thought you  _ knew _ that I didn’t care for your rules! I can’t respect you when you’ve been doing such a terrible job at respecting  _ me _ and  _ my _ boundaries. Respect is a two-way street, no matter the parties. I stand by that no matter who I’m presenting as. Roman or Veronica.”

His mother snarled and Roman stood his ground as she approached him. Damien stood next to Roman, not shielding him but making it known he wasn’t alone in this. A fact which Roman appreciated the more it looked like his mother might slap him. Damien must have been thinking similar, because he warned, “You lay one hand on Roman, and you won’t be staying to see the wedding.”

“I would never lay a hand on my dau—”

“—Son,” Damien warned softly. “Roman is your  _ son, _ remember?  _ He _ is trying to find out who he is, and part of that process involves you calling him his  _ proper _ name, the one  _ he _ chose, and using the gender  _ he _ identifies as when referring to him.”

His mother got a set in her jaw that Roman recognized, and he barely stepped in front of Damien a second before his mother’s fist raised towards Damien’s jaw, and connected with Roman instead. Roman staggered backwards into Damien’s chest, and underneath all the overwhelming  _ panic _ Roman felt he could hear a voice holler,  _ “DIANA!” _ from the doorway.

“Oh my god,” Damien murmured. “Oh. My god. Roman, are you okay?!”

Roman couldn’t respond. His cheek throbbed and his chest was too tight and he couldn’t  _ breathe _ because his mother just  _ hit him, hard, _ and—

“Roman, my love, breathe with me, can you do that?” Damien asked, positioning one of Roman’s hands on his chest. “I’m going to breathe in and I want you to do that with me, okay? Breathe in now...”

Roman tried to follow the instructions, but his breath was shuddery and wrong and not at all like what Damien was doing. Damien was quietly encouraging him nonetheless, saying he was doing a good job and smiling with tears in his eyes.

There was shouting overhead, and Logan seemed to be recording with his phone as the Queen shouted at Roman’s mother and Roman’s mother screeched back. The yelling was not helping Roman’s breathing much, but feeling Damien’s chest move underneath his hand was something to focus on when he couldn’t hear Damien’s voice over the awful din.

The screaming continued, louder now, and there were people gawking in the room, most of them guards. A few of the guards were actually moving, grabbing onto his mother who was thrashing violently. “You can’t do this!” she howled. “You can’t do this!”

“I can and I will!” the Queen grit out. “You tried to assault my son and in the process injured your own! You are far from welcome here! If you so much as think about returning, I will have you imprisoned!”

“Veronica, get up, you’re leaving with me!” his mother yelled.

Roman sat there, still as a statue, panic somehow getting even  _ more _ pronounced with that announcement.

“Veronica,  _ get up!” _ his mother bellowed.

“All due respect, Your Majesty, which means no respect at all,  _ fuck off,” _ Damien said. “Roman isn’t going anywhere. He and I are going to be married no matter what you say. He, as a man, will be marrying me, another man. Your  _ son _ is transgender and gay, bitch! And he’s never going back with you, not if  _ anyone _ in this castle has a say in it! Get lost!”

And with that proclamation, the guards led Roman’s mother out as Damien gave her double birds. Roman’s breathing slowed marginally, and everyone left in the room loosely surrounded him, not trapping him in but keeping an eye on him and reminding him that they were there. “Logan, did you get everything?” the Queen asked.

“Right down to Damien flipping her off,” Logan said calmly.

“Post it on the official Twitter,” the Queen said. “I want  _ everyone _ to know that she is no longer welcome in this kingdom.”

“With pleasure, Your Majesty,” Logan said, starting to tap at his phone.

“They’re going to have a PR nightmare at home,” Damien said with an all-too-pleased grin.

Roman laughed hysterically and Damien’s attention was instantly on him again. “Sorry, Roman. Are you okay?”

“She’s gone,” Roman breathed. “I can’t believe the bitch is gone.”

“She can never hurt you again,” Damien promised.

Roman nodded, swallowing. “I don’t feel too good...”

“Do you need water? Something to eat? Somewhere to lie down?” Damien asked.

“Yeah,” Roman said dazedly.

“To which?”

“What?” Roman asked.

Damien blinked. “I think it’s high time I showed you to my bedroom, my love,” he said. “You could clearly use the rest. We can worry about dance practice tomorrow.”

“Mm...okay,” Roman sighed.

The rest of the conversation went over his head. “He’ll be okay, won’t he?” Damien. Highly concerned.

“It may take time and a lot of tears, dearheart, but I do believe he’ll recover.” The Queen.

“I just uploaded the video. It already has twenty hits.” Logan.

“I’m gonna look it up the second I get my hands on my laptop. I want to see that bitch suffer.” Damien.

The room grew quiet. Roman belatedly realized that he whimpered and was starting to tear up.

“Too soon?”

“Probably, dearheart.”

“Take him to your room, Damien. Focus on him. Don’t worry about anything else,” Logan said.

Damien nodded and picked Roman up bridal style. “I know this is usually reserved for  _ after _ the wedding, my love, I hope you’ll forgive me,” Damien said.

Roman giggled inanely. Damien kissed Roman’s forehead, carried him out of the ballroom, through the halls, and up to his room, where Damien gently placed him on the bed.

And between the exhaustion and the adrenaline and the shock, Roman passed out in minutes.

Murmuring. A quiet murmuring sounding slightly tinny stirred Roman from his slumber. He opened his eyes, finding cool green walls and a canopy overhead. He had no idea where he was. He sat up in bed to find Damien, shirtless, next to him. Roman squeaked. “Please tell me I didn’t blackout during the marriage ceremony,” he blurted.

Damien laughed. “You didn’t blackout during the marriage ceremony,” he said, grinning. “You did, however, sleep well into midmorning the day after we kicked your mother out of the kingdom.”

Roman blinked, before last night came back to him in startling clarity. “Oh my god,” he breathed.

“Indeed,” Damien said. “Your family is about to hold a press conference about the video Logan posted last night. It went viral in just under an hour and a half.”

“Oh, I wanna see this for myself,” Roman said, scooching closer to Damien and eyeing the laptop on his lap.

Damien turned up the volume and the two of them watched as his mother, his father, and Remus came into view of the cameras. “This live?” Roman asked.

Damien hummed confirmation.

As the three of them sat down, Remus looked supremely uncomfortable, his father looked pained, and his mother looked pale as a ghost. There was no noise but the clicking of cameras for a solid fifteen seconds. Then, Remus blurted, “I do not agree with my mother’s actions whatsoever! It was despicable, reprehensible, and I’m frankly appalled at her behavior!”

The room exploded into a clamoring of reporters as their father snapped at Remus and his mother sat there, thoroughly shocked. “Remus, behave yourself! The plan was—”

“—Fuck your plans!” Remus exclaimed. “There is no excuse for my mother hitting my baby brother! I don’t care how large or short the difference between us being born is, you’re my baby brother, Roman, and I know you’re watching, and I want you to know I fully hate our parents too!”

Roman’s heart swelled with affection and Damien looked pleased. “Your brother is quite the colorful character,” Damien said.

“Oh, yeah,” Roman agreed. “He’s the best. And the worst. And there is no in between.”

Damien snorted as the pandemonium in the room quieted down. Remus pointed at one reporter. “Yes, you,” he said.

“Where is the other prince at this time?” she asked.

“I got a text from His Highness Damien. He has been taking care of Roman since the incident occurred. The two of them have gotten quite friendly and wish to continue with the marriage that our parents arranged for him,” Remus said candidly.

“Thank you for texting him,” Roman said.

“Of course,” Damien said. “I texted him right before he saw the video and he immediately peppered me with questions. I believe I might have been the one to talk him out of homicide.”

“Mm. Next time that happens wake me up so I can stop you,” Roman said idly.

Damien snickered as Remus pointed to another reporter. “Prince Remus, what do you intend to do about public outcry over your mother’s behavior?”

Remus got a Cheshire Cat smile and he purred, “I thought you’d never ask,” as he leaned forward. “Seeing as my mother stands by her behavior and calls the fact that she hit my brother an ‘unfortunate accident’ and my father has been doing damage control all night, it’s become clear to me that neither of them are exactly remorseful of their actions. Now, I’m not an idiot. I know the political climate in our country. And for the safety of my parents, as well as the safety of my brother, and whatever scraps of sanity I have left, I am proposing to Parliament a plan later today: force my parents to retire. I’m of legal age to be King, and I have already thought through who my advisors would be. This place needs an overhaul if the state of everything right now is anything to go by, and I am fully willing to put in the work and finish it.”

Their parents were looking murderous, but the second they started to object the reporters shouted them down. Roman pulled out his phone and dialed Remus. Remus leapt to his feet and yelled, “Everybody shut up a minute!” he answered. “Roman?”

“Put me on speaker?” Roman requested.

“Yeah, sure, if you’re ready for all the news stations in the world to hear you,” Remus said.

“I’m ready,” Roman said.

Remus pressed a button and Roman said, “To everyone in the press conference and everyone who’s watching at home, I’m all right.” It was weird hearing his voice echo through the computer, but he put that out of his mind and continued. “My parents have always been homophobic and transphobic, they’ve just been excellent at hiding it. I’m definitely going to continue marrying Damien, and everyone who was invited to that wedding is still invited, unless, of course, you are my parents or anyone who sides with my parents. Remus, thank you for standing up for me. I think you’d be a great King and I will happily come to your coronation. And, before I forget, news stations, turn on your censors! Fuck you, Remus, you’re only two minutes older than me!”

Remus laughed and a murmur went up among the reporters. “Thanks for that, Roman, that actually makes me feel a lot better. Of course, now that people know you’re conscious and have your phone, they’ll be trying to contact you.”

Roman paused. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Fuuuuck,” he groaned.

“That’s not very prince-like behavior,” Remus teased.

“Says the man who cussed out our parents on TV,” Roman snapped. “I’m done talking to you and the press folks. Talk after the conference.”

“Yep, later, bro,” Remus confirmed, and they hung up at the same time. Remus looked back out at the sea of reporters. “Any other questions?” he asked with a shark-like grin.

A clamor went up among the crowd and Damien turned the video on mute. “So, I’m happy you still want to go through with the wedding,” Damien said. “I was worried I was speaking out of turn when talking to Remus.”

“No, you’re good,” Roman said.

Damien let out a shaky breath. “Is it okay if I tell you my vows now? You don’t have to tell me yours, but I want to tell you mine.”

Roman considered. “Give me bullet points,” he said. “I want the actual vows to be a surprise, but you can give me bullet points.”

“Okay...” Damien hummed. “Love. Trust. Hope. That vague enough?”

“That’s perfect,” Roman said with a grin.

Damien rolled his eyes and unmuted the press conference and the two watched the scene unfold with Roman’s parents getting more and more mutinous the more Remus talked, but every time they tried to say something, Remus would either blackmail them into silence or the reporters would drown them out. When the conference was over, Remus walked out with his head held high and the guards escorted their parents out. The reporters were tossing around words like “unprecedented,” “inconceivable,” and “ground-breaking,” and one even went so far as to utter the word “coup.” Roman just snuggled into Damien’s side, content to let emails go left unread for a while, and he silenced his phone. Right now, he just wanted to rest with his fiancé right there with him.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where to begin...thank you all for waiting for this chapter. What happened in my life in August just...kept happening. My parents kicked me out for getting on testosterone. I had to move to Arizona to be with my fiancé. The first time I looked at this document after moving, I had a panic attack because it just hit that close to home. I'm hoping to be able to get back to writing for it, however! I don't want to quit this story, especially when it's so close to being finished! Thank you all for being so patient in waiting, again, and I hope you enjoy!

It was soon after the press conference ended that there was a knock on the bedroom door. “Come in!” Damien called.

The Queen opened the door with a smile. “I heard you were up, Roman, and I’m really glad. How are you feeling?”

“Kinda numb, honestly,” Roman said.

“I’m not surprised,” the Queen sighed. “The hurt will probably sink in soon, however.”

“Yeah,” Roman sighed, playing with his hands in his lap. “I’m worried that’s going to happen. Like, I hated my mother. But she was still my mother. And her not accepting me is always going to hurt like a major bitch.”

“Your mother not being here is going to hurt like your mother?” Damien asked.

Roman snorted, clapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh my God, Damien, shut up,” he laughed.

“Why? We can’t get in trouble for it anymore,” he reasoned.

“It’s going to hurt more than make me laugh one of these days and I don’t want you getting used to it,” Roman said.

Damien sobered a hell of a lot more than Roman expected and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he said.

“I’m fine for now,” Roman said. “But I’m not taking that for granted. It’s going to sink in that I’ve moved and I’m going to have a full-blown panic attack about it sometime.”

“Is there anything I can do to help with that?” Damien asked.

“Other than being here and letting me cry? I doubt it,” Roman sighed. “I just need to let it sink in that my parents were pieces of shit...” Roman shuddered and his voice cracked as he said, “...And they never actually loved me for who I was.”

Damien rubbed his hand on Roman’s shoulder blades and Roman shrugged him off. “Not that I don’t appreciate the comfort, but that’s not what I need right now,” Roman said, eyes clouding with tears faster than he thought imaginable. “I just want...I don’t know. I don’t...I can’t...”

“Maybe you should rest a while longer, my love...” Damien suggested.

“No!” Roman said sharply. “No,” he said softer. “I don’t want to rest.” He stood, beginning to pace the length of the room. His breathing was picking up, and suddenly, he was feeling trapped. Everyone outside this room could judge him, and wouldn’t hesitate to do so. What were they saying behind his back? What did they think of him? The poor, defenseless son who couldn’t even fight his own battles? Or worse, did they think he was just a little girl who didn’t understand the magnitude of what was going on?

He ran his hands through his hair, his too long hair that was driving him  _ insane, _ and he bit back a scream. This was unbearable. What had he done?! What had happened?! His parents weren’t ever going to take him back after everything that had happened yesterday and today. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t  _ think, _ why couldn’t he pin down even  _ one _ thought?!

And then hands were on his shoulders, holding him still, and he was sobbing, and suddenly he was enveloped in warmth. He clutched at the shoulders of the person holding him, and he inhaled the scent of men’s deodorant, felt at the soft flannel shirt, and listened to the gentle cadence of a voice assuring him everything would be all right.  _ Damien. _

He wasn’t alone in this anymore. He had people to help him, here. This was going to hurt. It would continue to hurt for months, years. But whenever it did, he could come to his love and get comfort. His shuddering breaths calmed in his chest, even as he didn’t dare open his eyes. Tears continued leaking off his eyelashes, and he just let it happen. There was nothing he could do to stop the tears. They would stop in their own time.

As Damien pulled away, Roman squeezed his eyes shut tighter. “Sorry,” he said, inwardly berating himself. “I know that wasn’t the right response.”

When he didn’t get a verbal reply, he opened an eye to see Damien’s jaw set and nerves jumping in fury. “You have  _ nothing _ to apologize for,” he said sternly. “Don’t  _ ever _ apologize for feeling something. Anything.”

Roman was at a loss for words. “Okay,” he said, in a small voice.

Damien took a deep breath, and slowly got his anger under control, and his face grew less red. “All right,” he said. “In that case, my love, would you perhaps like to go downstairs and retrieve breakfast? I imagine Patton is quite worried about you, and it might soothe everyone in the castle to see you about. Everyone has been asking after you.”

“Have they?” Roman asked faintly. That was so many people he would have to reassure, do damage control for. The one thing he would miss his mother for: damage control was her specialty.

“Don’t worry, my love. They won’t swarm you, and word will travel fast that you’re fine,” Damien assured. “If anyone wants to get to you, they’ll have to get through me first, understand?”

Roman was shocked as he realized that when Damien said that, he meant it. He would honestly take the literal hit before letting Roman be put in harm’s way. He couldn’t imagine love deeper than that.  _ Damien loves me, _ he thought numbly. The words didn’t even seem to register properly in that order. “Yeah, breakfast sounds good,” he said.

The Queen smiled at him. “You know, dear, after breakfast, I think we ought to get your hair cut. And we should see if the binder Remy made you for everyday wear fits properly. And, if you want, we can go out and buy you a new wardrobe, one that actually fits your style.”

Roman blinked. “We can?” he asked.

“Well, no one here is going to stop us,” the Queen said. “I think it’s high time that we get you comfortable in your skin.”

Roman let out a shaky breath, before hesitantly smiling. “That sounds...fantastic,” he breathed. “I’d love to go into town to shop for some clothes. And maybe shoes, for that matter. My mother forced me to wear heels most of the time. I’d kill for some boots, or even just loafers.”

“Boots, loafers, and sneakers,” Damien said. “Do you know your size in men’s?”

“Oh...no, I don’t,” Roman said with a little laugh. “Never got the chance to find out.”

“Okay, so the first order will be to measure your feet when we get to the shoe store, got it,” Damien said with a nod. “Ready for breakfast?”

Roman felt a pit of dread bloom in his stomach briefly before he nodded. Better to get it over with, at any rate. Damien led him out into the hallway and Roman followed Damien away from his room until he knew where they were, and he walked forward to hang next to Damien’s side at that point. The guards were talking in hushed tones down the hallway, which turned quiet as Damien and Roman approached. Roman didn’t fail to notice their lingering stares on him. He made eye contact with them and they looked away, turning back to their conversation.

“Breathe, my love, you act like you’re on your way to an execution, or a suicide mission,” Damien said.

“Who’s to say I’m not?” Roman whispered back. “Everyone is going to want to know what happened last night. And I, for one, am not ready to delve into that mess.”

“All you would need to do is say so, my love, and they would drop the subject. If anyone tried to guilt you, they’d have not only me, but my parents to answer to. And everyone here values their jobs here too much to do something that stupid.”

“Damien, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my mother, it’s this: for every action you take, there will always be social consequences. I, for one, am not ready for the stares, the interrogations, the pitying looks. I barely made it fifteen minutes awake before I started to break down. If anyone brings up last night I’m willing to bet the only things I’ll be able to say are a few hazy memories and I’ll devolve into a panic attack. Even if no one  _ says _ anything, they’ll treat me differently. And that is a permanent reminder,” Roman replied.

“Your mother is an abhorrent woman, and I think she really should have taught you more than that when it comes to life,” Damien said. “While you are not exactly  _ wrong, _ there are certainly aspects to that which are positive: people thanking you for taking a stand in their defence, for instance. Not every consequence is negative. You can’t make everyone happy, but you can learn a few things from trying to, and one of them is this: for every person who doesn’t like a decision in the right direction, there are five more willing to back you up. Find them, and rely on them when you need to. You are not alone in this, my love.”

Damien brought up a fair point. Roman  _ wasn’t _ alone anymore. He had Damien to help if everything became too much. Communicating that might be difficult, as his mother’s teachings probably ran deeper than he suspected, and the thought of needing help made him grimace, but it was there. All he had to do was ask.

They got to the kitchen, and as soon as Patton turned, he breathed an audible sigh. “Oh, thank God, I was so worried about you, Roman! We all were!”

Roman smiled, though he knew it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks, Patton. I don’t really want to talk about it, though. Can we just have some breakfast instead?”

“Of course!” Patton said. “What do you want?”

Roman shrugged. “Anything, really. At this point, I’m just hungry.”

Patton smiled and got to work. “Virgil was asking about you earlier,” he said. “He apparently even got over his fear of Logan long enough to ask to see the video he took. The official Twitter page for us wasn’t good enough for him. He wanted to see everything in its shaking, blurry glory on Logan’s phone. Though he claimed he could see it better on the phone.”

“Of course he did,” Damien scoffed. “That man would claim that he could see anything better in an original video because he saw one ‘Mythbusters’ episode where they examined viral footage.”

“Damien, don’t make me kick your ass in training,” Virgil said from the doorway. “You’re already on thin ice.”

“For what?” Damien asked, looking offended.

“For not knocking that bitch over where she stood and instead merely flipping her off,” Virgil said.

Roman turned a faint shade of green and Damien put his hand on Roman’s shoulder as he said, “We’re not talking about that right now. We’re talking about  _ anything _ but last night, all right?”

“Okay,” Virgil said. “What should we talk about?”

“Well,” Patton said with a cheeky grin. “We could talk about what you’re wearing to the royal wedding. After all, you  _ are _ my date.”

Virgil sputtered and Roman squealed. “No way!” he exclaimed, hands flying to his mouth. “Since when?”

“Since now, judging by Virgil’s reaction,” Damien snickered. “Make that executive decision yourself, Patton?”

“Well,  _ he _ certainly wasn’t going to ask me!” Patton chirped innocently. “I figured why not ask him first? He almost asked me out last night after everything, so I know he’s ready.”

“Who told you?! I’m going to kill them!” Virgil exclaimed.

“Logan, actually,” Patton said, grinning. “And he’s polyamorous, you know. As am I. And, apparently, so are you.”

Virgil stood there, opening his mouth but making no noise. Eventually he made a strangled cry and Patton tutted, walking over. “Oh, come  _ on, _ Virgil! Love is in the air! Why not give it a chance!”

“Because I’m too busy making sure these two gay disasters stay alive!” Virgil exclaimed, gesturing vaguely to Roman and Damien.

“I think we’ll manage for a night,” Damien said drily.

“Seconded!” Roman exclaimed. “Especially if it means you three get together!”

Virgil made a vague noise of protest, but couldn’t choke out more than a few words at a time.

“Let’s give him some time to reboot,” Patton said, gesturing for Damien and Roman to sit, and he went to the stove, bringing back a huge omelet which he cut in two and split between Roman and Damien. “Share, children,” he lightly teased.

Damien rolled his eyes. “That won’t be an issue,” he said.

“Speak for yourself,” Roman said, grabbing a fork and swiping some of the omelet off Damien’s plate.

“Hey! That was mine!” Damien protested.

Roman laughed. “Whatever happened to sharing won’t be an issue, my love?”

Damien turned bright red and said, “Don’t use my own terms of endearment against me!”

Roman giggled with Patton, while Damien attempted to turn less red in the face. Virgil walked over and clapped Damien on the back. “I guess we’re doomed to be the ones who get flustered, huh?”

“Roman gets plenty flustered,” Damien weakly protested.

“You do it more,” Roman replied easily.

“Care to put your money where your mouth is?” Damien tried.

“Money? No,” Roman said. “Bedtime activities? You might be able to tempt me...”

Patton choked and Virgil snorted as all Damien’s work to unred his face went down the drain. “Roman, no,” Damien managed.

“Why not? My mother isn’t here, after all, and you appear to enjoy it,” he said.

Damien fumbled with his flannel shirt, pulling it down over his pants. “Don’t,” he managed.

“I didn’t even mean it in that way, but okay!” Roman laughed. “All right, all right, I’ll save that for our honeymoon, sound good?”

Damien grimaced. “If that makes you happy, my love.”

“You wouldn’t prefer it?” Roman asked.

Damien paused for a minute, fork halfway to his mouth. “That came out wrong.”

“No, shit?” Roman laughed incredulously. “Way to tank a guy’s self-confidence.”

“Roman, you are a marvelous man and don’t let anyone tell you different, but I, for one, cannot act suave when...bedtime activities are brought up.”

“Oh, all right,” Roman sighed. “I suppose you can make it up to me...on our honeymoon. Put  _ your _ money where your mouth is.”

“I can do that,” Damien agreed.

They went back to eating, and Patton and Virgil chatted idly about the wedding. Namely, how they were supposed to be together when Virgil was guarding it and Patton was catering it. “You wouldn’t be able to relax long enough for  _ one _ dance?” Patton pressed.

“One? Maybe. Two? No,” Virgil said.

“Who’d the second dance be with?” Patton asked, smirking as he leaned forward.

Virgil turned bright red and said, “None of your business.”

“If we intend to be partners, then I’d say it is,” Patton said, not unkindly.

“Fine! I might want to ask Logan so he doesn’t feel left out,” Virgil admitted.

“That’s gonna be priceless,” Roman said. “I want photos.”

“No,” Virgil snarled.

“Oh, I’ve got you covered, honey, don’t worry,” Patton assured Roman.

Virgil looked mutinous and Damien wisely changed the topic of conversation as he asked, “Virgil, are you up for taking myself, Mother, and Roman down to town today?”

“Yeah, of course,” Virgil said. “Why?”

“My fiancé is in need of a haircut,” Damien said. “Not to mention a wardrobe upgrade.”

“So long as I can keep my red shirt, I’m fine with this,” Roman said. “That one’s my favorite.”

“Damien’s, too,” Virgil said, smirking. “He wouldn’t  _ allow _ you to get rid of it. He’d hoard it in his room, sleep with it under his pillow if you let him.”

“Virgil!” Damien snapped as Roman cracked up. “I would not!”

“Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn’t,” Virgil said. “But regardless of the truth of the statement, it’s a funny image.”

Damien scowled and Roman put a hand on Damien’s shoulder. “It’s all good, Damien,” he said. “If you do want that shirt, though, you’d have to ask, because I wear it as often as I can.”

“That may change with gender-affirming clothes, you realize,” Damien pointed out.

Roman shrugged. “Or it might give me accessories to wear  _ with _ that shirt. If I have a binder like the Queen said, then I can wear it and have even less dysphoria!”

“I fear the day that shirt wears out,” Damien muttered.

“I don’t. I’d pay Remy to massacre his work room with glitter  _ just _ to get one that says  _ King _ on it with glitter,” Roman said with a grin.

Damien took in a deep breath before asking, “Why?”

“Purely for that reaction,” Roman said with a grin.

Damien stared at him a long moment. “You’re very lucky that I don’t feel inclined to tickle you right now,” he said plainly.

“Oh, yeah, I know,” Roman laughed.

As they finished breakfast, Patton asked them a little bit about what they were planning to do once they got into town. Damien replied with a quick, “Clothes, hair, and shoes.”

“Oh! No endocrinologist?” Patton asked.

Damien shushed him, but Roman caught what he said. “Endocrinologist?” he asked, eyes heating up. That had been one of his biggest dreams—and one that had seemed unattainable considering his parents. But if his mother was gone...then that meant...

“In two weeks, after our honey—mmph!” Damien didn’t get to finish as Roman pulled him in for a kiss.

When Roman broke it, he whispered a raspy, “Thank you,” to Damien.

“It’s not a problem, my love,” Damien said. “I want to make sure you’re happy.”

“I’m more than happy, I’m ecstatic,” Roman said, wiping a tear from his eyes. “God, I’m crying so much lately, but I can’t help it. The endocrinologist. God, I’m so excited! I want that soon! Not enough to see if we can do it before the honeymoon, but...yeah. I want that.”

Damien grinned. “I’m glad,” he said. “My father arranged it as soon as we told him. He knew that even if you didn’t want it, there was no harm in scheduling and cancelling after the wedding.”

“Remind me to thank him later,” Roman said.

“After we go shopping, I will,” Damien promised.

**Author's Note:**

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**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Royal Growing Pains (Sanders Sides) Fan Art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23056831) by [YourLocalTheaterKid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourLocalTheaterKid/pseuds/YourLocalTheaterKid)


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